


Here Comes The Sun

by Mrs_Dark_Knight



Category: Guns N' Roses, Hard Rock RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Smut, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Dark_Knight/pseuds/Mrs_Dark_Knight
Summary: Axl impulsively moves to L.A with hopes of making a better life for his siblings and himself. Not once did he expect the big city to be so cold, nor did he expect the sun to arrive in the form of a lanky blonde with eyes of emerald green





	1. Chapter 1

_I need this job._

_I need this job._

_I need this fucking job._

Axl was doing his best to remind himself of this as he bobbed and weaved his way through the rowdy crowd, trying desperately not to drop anymore drinks.

Michelle would be understanding and all, but he hated the look of pity in her eyes, so no, that just wouldn't do.

"You sure took your time." The man leered at him, nudging his friends who burst into laughter at Axl's tight expression. "We should get a bonus for the wait..."

The redhead bit back the scathing reply trying to force itself from him and _gently_ lowered the drinks."I'm sorry for the delay."

To be fair, he had brought their drinks earlier, but they kept changing their minds just to make his job that much harder and giggle like a bunch of fucking retards.

"Is there anything else you'd like?" Axl's eyes watered as one of the men blew the cigarette smoke in his face. He very carefully resisted the urge to slam the guy's face unto the table.

He needed this job.

“Yeah, can we have you on the side?" One crowed, bringing a heavy hand down unto the redhead's ass. His friends laughed uproariously. "You look like the type, what's yer price?"

Axl swallowed his rising anger and pulled away, stomping back to the bar, all the while spitting vile curses.

"Woah, what happened to you Red?" Aiden, the bartender, asked him. It was a busy night, but he still did his best to keep an eye on Axl. "The douches at it again?"

Axl ran a shaking hand through his hair, "I swear to god, if I didn't need this job..." Really, he could take them. Each and every one, maybe all at once.

Aiden frowned, grey eyes sombre. "You don't have to take their shit, Axl."

Axl smiled weakly at the man, thanking the gods he had found this place and made a few friends. Sometimes he regretted having left Indiana for L.A, surviving in the big city with no family nearby was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

And he'd done _lots_ of hard shit.

"Yeah, I know."

"Tell you what, I've got just the thing to cheer you up." Aiden peered over his head, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Your guy is here. Serve him."

Axl flushed. "He's not my guy." He said this even as he glanced around the crowded room for those startling green eyes.

"Whatever you say, man. You totally want him to be." Aiden winked. "Just go."

Axl ran his fingers through his hair a few more times, ignoring the bartender's laugh, before sauntering off towards the back of the room.

The man always sat there for some reason, in the quietest corner of the bar. Sometimes alone, sometimes with company.

Sure enough, he was there, with a friend he frequently came with (Axl could never make out his face, not with the afro obscuring it). Blondie's hair was pulled back in a ponytail tonight; he wasn't in a suit this time (so he wasn’t coming straight from work), just a t-shirt and jeans from what he could see.

He stumbled a little and was almost certain that Aiden had seen him from across the room. Blondie chose that exact moment to glance behind him and spot Axl.

"Hi." The man said, lips curling in that smile that messed with Axl's senses.

"Hello." He managed to make it to the table without falling flat on his face. "What can I get you?"

"The usual." Axl had no clue why the man seemed to be in love with vodka, but it wasn't his place to ask.

"Okay. Uhm. Sure thing." He was smiling like an idiot, preparing to move away when Blondie’s friend spoke up.

The dark haired man cleared his throat pointedly. "I'd like to order too."

The redhead blushed, hoping the room was too dark for anyone to notice. Apparently not, since Blondie was staring right at him. "Sorry, yeah, what can I get you?"

The brunette laughed, but not unkindly. "Relax, I'll have whatever he's having actually. I was just teasing."

That didn't make Axl blush less, he muttered something about being a minute and headed back to the bar. If Aiden smirked any harder, his face would freeze that way.

"Shut up."

"Look at you, blushing like a teenager with a crush."

Well he was _only_ 20, but he didn't dare mention that. There was no way in hell Michelle would have hired him in a goddamn bar/nightclub if he had.

 _A lie a day, right?_ "Yeah well, just shut up and gimmie the usual."

A few minutes later (and serving yet another asshole in between) he returned with their drinks.

"Is that all?" Axl asked, trying not to stare in Blondie's lap, cause fuck those tight pants were doing things for him.

"For now. We're having a bit of a competition."

This was probably the worse time to notice Blondie's voice was pretty fucking sexy to top it all off. Luckily, his friend replied, because Axl was perfectly content to stand there staring at the line of his jaw, and admiring his piercings.

"I don't know why you bother trying, Duff." The brunette snorted, tilting his chair. "I can out drink you any day."

Duff? That was an... odd name.

"We'll see..."

Axl realised he was just standing there like an idiot gaping, and gave them their privacy.

The night dragged on in its regular fashion, customers came and went, the crowd thinned out and _still_ Duff and his friend kept at it.

It was kind of amusing now, and half the bar was watching them, casting bets and rooting for a winner.

"I don't even gotta ask whose side you're on." Aiden murdered at one point. "But that other guy's putting up a hell of a fight."

And saying"Duff looks fine." really wasn't any type of reply, but it came out anyway. He was distracted with soaking up his sound of his laughter and the glow of his smile. It's not like he had a crush or anything. The guy was just... _interesting_.

The bartender quirked a brow, struggling to keep his voice neutral. "Duff?"

The redhead flinched, caught. "Yeah, that's his name I guess." He tried his best to sound nonchalant, but if Aiden's grin was anything to go by, he had failed.

"More." The brunette yelled, waving wildly. He might've been a little tipsy, but that was still pretty impressive considering the amount of alcohol they had consumed.

"Be polite, Slash." Duff was whispering, or he was trying to, it was pretty loud.

Laughing for the first time that night (morning?), Axl headed over with more shots. "Here you go."

"Thank you, beautiful." Duff slurred a bit, but he didn't look completely out of it. Try as he might, Axl's brain could come up with nothing but a hurried retreat, so he scurried away from the table without a word like the idiot he was.

Slash snorted softly, "Just ask him out already, you've been coming here for weeks."

The blonde spluttered, flushing faintly. "Shut up and drink, you talk too loudly. I can smell the hundred already."

And, okay, maybe Axl was lingering close to their tabling and eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help it—they were loud. The redhead snorted when he realized they had bet a hundred on their little game, though they spent _way_ more than that on the liquor alone.

 _Idiots_.

It went on like that for a while until last call. Neither of them had won. Miraculously, neither of them had passed out either. Aiden called someone to pick them up (Duff wasn't too drunk to remember the number) and watched them till they got in the car safely.

"Bye bye, Red." Slash yelled, he had adopted the nickname from Aiden somewhere along the way.

"Goodbye." Axl chuckled, returning Slash’s enthusiastic wave.

Duff poked his head out the window with a sly grin. "Night, beautiful."

The redhead rolled his eyes, ignoring just how pleased the words made him. "Well, it's morning now, Blondie."

Duff looked so comically dismayed at his slip up as the car pulled away that Axl couldn't stop his sharp bark of laughter.

"Beautiful, huh?" Aiden wiggled his brows as they walked back towards the bar.

"I couldn't stop him." He shrugged. "You're OK to lock up, right?" He secretly hoped he wasn't, he would then have an excuse to linger in the warmth of the building for a while longer.

Aiden shook his head, "I'm good here. Have a nice night, _beautiful_."

Axl shot him a cocky smile, all swagger and false bravado. "You know I will."

Truth is, he wasn't so sure. He was short on cash, homeless (unless one considered his shitty car a home) and fucking _cold_. He walked to where his car was parked, slipped inside and started the engine. It coughed and spluttered before finally coming to life. Sighing, he turned on the heater and glanced in the back seat at his makeshift bed. It really was just a few pillows and a comforter.

It was cramped and uncomfortable, but better than the alternative. And really, he had slept in places way worse.

"All there is to blame is your stupid pride, Billy." He said to no one, grinning faintly. "If you hadn't been such a fucking queer you could be home right now."

That didn't sound right. That wasn't the truth at all. Even this, his _current_ shitty situation, was way better than the _previous_ one. This wasn't only for him anyway; this was for Amy and Stuart. His siblings back home who were probably suffering under Stephen's ‘parenting’ as he sat here bitching.

He was saving, just so he could make a home, for all of them. A _real_ home where they weren't treated like shit or beaten half to death on the regular, or forced to be things they were not. He had only been here two months ( _eight fucking weeks without a proper bed, but also eight fucking weeks without the reverend trying to break his ribs_ ) doing odd jobs and whatever he could get his hands on to make the money he needed. He'd stay in a motel on nights when the pay was good (this was, unfortunately, not one of those nights) and spend whatever he earned sparingly on things such as food and what not.

"It's just for now," he mumbled, pulling away from the curb. "After I get an apartment and get them here, I'll—" what exactly?

Go back to school, with money he didn't have?

Continue working like a slave to pay the rent?

How would he even feed Amy and Stu? Maybe they could work too?

Axl's grip tightened on the wheel, lips pressed in a thin line. "One thing at a time, Princess. One thing at a time."

What he needed right now was a safe place to sleep, maybe a motel parking lot was best?

The last thing on his mind was the blonde with the wicked emerald eyes and the sunny smile.

\-------------------

Slash was in his bed.

He was hungover and Slash was in his bed looking like the cat that got the cream.

This was not how Duff planned to start his morning— a glance at the clock told him it was after twelve, but this still wasn't how he planned to start anything!

"I said what?" He asked, for perhaps the hundredth time, because Slash clearly wasn't making sense.

"You called him _beautiful_ , if you tried flirting any harder you'd probably start doing a striptease."

The blonde scrubbed a hand over his face, struggling to make sense of Slash's blabbing. "And you didn't fucking stop me?"

"Why would I? You like him don't you? You've been blabbing about him for weeks." The brunette stretched languidly and reclined on the bed, looking way too happy to be hungover. And maybe, a lot like some model, not someone who just threw up ten times in the bathroom.

Duff envied him.

Groaning, he pulled the sheets over his eyes, hoping to block out the pesky sunlight. "That's not the point Slash. You _allowed_ me to talk while I was drunk." He winced at the bright light forcing its way through the barrier of his sheets. Who had had the audacity to open his curtains? Slash probably. "I am _not_ allowed to talk while drinking. Especially not to the ones I like."

Slash struggled to keep the laughter from his voice, Duff would probably try to strangle him if he suddenly lost his shit. "You weren't _drunk_ exactly—"

"What else did I say?" He interjected, cursing the blanks in his memory.

"You offered to send him nudes." Slash must have noticed the look of utter mortification on the blonde's face, because he burst into laughter, waving a hand dismissively. "Christ, I'm only kidding. You didn't say anything else, we just drank while you stared at his ass ever so often."

"Did he notice?" This was all a bad idea, getting uproariously drunk in front of your crush. That was what the kid was right? His _crush_? He was too fucking old for this. "Please tell me he didn't look at me like I'm some sort of pervert."

"You are." Slash snorted, "That kid looked at you like he wanted you to bend him over the nearest available surface." The brunette grinned slyly. "Or he wants to bend _you_ over it."

Duff threw the sheets off him, looking Slash dead in the eye. "Please, get out of my house."

Slash just burrowed deeper beneath the sheets and smiled. "Rest up, we’re going back this weekend to get you a date. This is pathetic."

"Slash..." He was a grown man, he could ask someone out if he wanted. He wasn't fucking shy or anything, and no, he totally didn't practice talking to the guy in the mirror before heading out.

That would be pathetic.

_Fuck, I am totally pathetic._

"Dude, if you don't ask him out this weekend, I'm showing up and calling you both out." Slash wasn't bluffing either; they both knew he would actually attempt it. "We both know what happens when I get involved in shit."

"Don't remind me." Maybe he'd have to come up with something sooner than he planned. Because the last time Slash tried to help him out with his love life had led to a series of unfortunate events and a little erm... ‘self-discovery’ among friends (so really it wasn’t so bad, but he wasn’t about to tell the fucker that).

"He does have the strangest eyes." Slash mused, pulling the duvet up to his chin. "Blue-grey?"

Duff's mouth moved without his permission. "Nah, they're more blue-green than anything. But that depends on the lighting and his mood—"

Slash's raucous laughter did fucking _wonders_ for his pounding head.


	2. Chapter 2

His day job was just a bit more bearable than his work at the bar (which was because no one was trying to touch him at any given time), but it was twice as hectic. It seemed like waiting tables for shitty pay was the only job available for a tattooed high school dropout.

Axl managed to show up on time today, and was halfway through his shift, sweating profusely, half asleep on his feet.

Fuck, he was aching in places he never had before. He was miserable and tense and in need of a hot shower (that was fine, Michelle allowed him to use the private room upstairs before his shift, he had told her he wouldn't have time to go back 'home' to change after leaving work—she looked skeptical, but offered nonetheless).

"Uhm, you can't possibly expect me to eat at _that_ table?" An elderly lady was hissing, tapping a foot, radiating impatience.

Oh yeah, she was definitely in the mood for an altercation.

Axl glanced at the table in question; it was littered with trash from the last set of fuckers who insisted on leaving a mess behind them.

He sighed, "I'll be right with you, miss." It seemed some people didn't realise cleaning up their messes was common courtesy. Fucking teenagers.

She apparently wasn't through with him. The lady adjusted their glasses, peering down at him with her mud-coloured, squinty little eyes. "I have a complaint to make about your tattoos, just _look_ at you. I don't know _how_ you're allowed to work here—"

He fazed her out, walking over to clean up the table almost on autopilot.

"Young man? Young man!" She hissed, following closely behind him on stumpy legs. "I bet you haven't even finished high school, huh? I wouldn't be surprised, vagabonds like yourself are—"

Axl blinked the sweat from his eyes, trying to reign in his spiking anger. "Vagabond? Listen, lady. They had no problem hiring—"

"I need to talk to the manager." She interjected, frowning at him over her glasses. "Back in my day, we couldn't receive this kind of treatment—"

The redhead whirled to stare at her, they weren't paying him half as much to put up with this. "We who?" The stifling smell of grease in the air was just adding to his bad mood, he could barely get in an untainted lungful of air. If there was one thing he hated more than being overworked, it was feeling trapped.

She spluttered, caught off guard, Axl took the brief moment of silence to stack the empty boxes unto his tray. She was, however, not deterred for long.

"We, the people of America. The good old days when we were treated with respect." She raised her voice, looking around haughtily for support. She got only vague disinterested glances. "Is this not America—"

"Ah, yes." Axl snapped, fixing her with a cutting glare. Why the fuck was it so hot in here? " _We_. Who, white people? You mean the good old days when you could do as you pleased, right? I'm sorry, its twenty-fucking-sixteen, get over it."

The whole restaurant went deathly quiet and one or two people had their phones out, recording. The lady gaped, thin red lips opening and closed, splotches of color bloomed in her cheeks.

"I want to talk to the manager!" She screamed, stomping towards the counter, she was saying other things while jabbing an accusing finger in his direction. Axl didn't care. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, the room seemed to go fuzzy at the edges and he knew he had to get out before he made an even _bigger_ scene.

He ripped of the 'Checker's Chicken' apron with a flourish and deposited it on the floor. The tray followed with a crush.

All eyes were on him now.

"Fuck you." He said succinctly to the woman. His manager's mouth hung open, he had apparently come outside some time during the racket. "Fuck you too, Bob. Fuck you, you underpaying, overworking, obese _asshole_."

Needless to say he was out the door holding his last paycheck in under five minutes. He was strangely OK with that. The fresh air did wonders for his heated skin. He wandered around aimlessly till he decided to do his daily check in at a payphone a bit earlier than usual.

"Hey, Stu." Axl breathed when someone finally managed to pick up.

"Billy?" Stuart chuckled. "How are ya, man?"

Axl smiled wanly though the boy couldn't see it. "You know me, I'm good. You?"

Stu's lengthy pause before answering spoke volumes. "It's... OK."

"Stu... What the hell man. Did he touch you—"

"It's not me you gotta worry about man, it's Amy." He whispered, Axl guessed Stephen was still home and prowling around close by. "I don't know... I was at school. But I got home and she was all beaten up man."

Axl managed to force a "what do you mean?" around the lump in his throat.

"Not like he beat her, not only that... But...like she was fighting him off..." Stuart trailed off uncertainly.

Axl understood. He dug his nails into his palm and stared out the booth at the world. It looked painfully normal.

He needed the money; it had been a while since he had...

But, he _needed_ it.

"Billy? Axe?" Stu sounded worried. "Are you okay out there? You left kinda suddenly man, half of your shit is sti—"

Axl laughed harshly. "Left? Daddy dearest kicked me to the curb. Half alive, but kicked out nonetheless." Some douche bag was outside tapping on the glass, Axl flipped him off for his worries.

"Bill... I'm..." Stu sighed. "Just stay safe, OK? I'm worried about you."

You should be worried about yourself, he thought, bitterly. "I'm coming for you two, so don't... Don't die on me, ya hear?"

Stu laughed, but it sounded weak and forced. "You couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to. I don't wanna..." He hesitated, "I know you're doing your best, but... Axe... Amy needs to get out of here."

They both did, but more so Amy.

"I'll work something out." His eyes stung, the guy knocked on the glass again, miming a rude gesture. Axl carefully mouthed _'go fuck yourself'_.

"OK, thanks man. Hey, ain't it a bit early for you to be calling?"

"Early lunch." He lied through his teeth. "Gotta go, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Thought you were gonna take forever in there." The man hissed once he had stepped out of the booth.

In his defense, he managed to hold back the punch he was dying to lay on the fucker. He had enough on his mind, like just how the fuck he was gonna make enough money and go back.

_You said you'd never do it again._

_It's dangerous._

_You're stupid._

_Last time didn't work out so well._

The voices of reason did nothing to dissuade him; his mind was already made up.

\---------------

Aiden could tell Axl was distracted, but he'd be damned if he could find out why.

When some creep had pawed at him and Axl hadn’t batted an eye, Aiden became really concerned. "What're you thinking about?"

The redhead blinked at him, perplexed. "Pardon?"

"You're out of it tonight." The brunette carefully lowered the glass he was cleaning. "What's eating you?"

 _Apart from hunger?_ Axl's lips twisted in a dark smile, "Nothing."

"You know you can talk to me right?" The kid had come in a few weeks ago, grim-faced and determined, asking about the position available. Both Michelle and Aiden took a liking to him, regardless of how skeptical they were of the age he gave them—no way in hell he's twenty two— they offered him the job. No one knew much about him, except that he worked hard, was gorgeous and had a bit of a...er...temper. Aiden liked to think they were somewhat friends, they weren't besties, but Axl talked to him more than he did anyone else.

Axl looked conflicted; his eyes darted from Aiden's searching gaze to his own feet. "Do you... Is there anything else I can do around here? For a raise?"

Aiden blinked, a bit taken aback. The kid worked hard enough as it was, why would he offer to take on more?

Axl must have noticed, because he rushed to clarify. "I mean, I'm plenty thankful for this job, but, I'm just saying if there's anything _else_ Mich needs help with—"

"I got ya kid." Aiden said softly, it wasn’t his place to judge. He, after all, knew nothing much about Axl’s lifestyle. "I'll see what she says."

Axl flashed him a little smile.

"You know..." The brunette chewed on his lip. "You can ask me a favour, sometimes. I know you're the type that tries to take everything on alone—"

"It's not—"

" _But_ ," he continued, shooting Axl an irritated glance. "We're here if you need us. We kinda like you, just a bit."

Axl hesitated for a bit longer, "Then can I... Can you get someone to cover for me? The rest of my shift?" Axl hated to do this, but he had no choice. "I'm just really tired and I'm going home to—"

Aiden didn't bother pointing out the obvious fib, "OK. You never asked before. You can go, Vince can take over."

Axl grabbed his hand, squeezing it a bit. "Thank you, Aiden."

He showered upstairs, taking the time to apply enough concealer to cover his dark circles. At least his hair wasn't as greasy as it was earlier, but that didn't make this any easier.

Nothing would.

He pulled his jacket tighter around him, covering his sheer top, reminding himself he'd have to walk back downstairs and through the crowd to get out of the place.

"No need to make it obvious, Billy." He muttered, grabbing his car keys. "They all already think you're a slut."

He hurried down the stairs, keeping his head down as he weaved through the crowd. He was almost out the door when he bumped into someone solid.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at whatever was barring his exit.

Duff righted him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, you were moving pretty fast."

Axl's breath hitched and his ability to make full sentences was put on hold. If Blondie looked good last night, he looked stunning now, donning a full suit of black, ripped jeans exposing slivers of tan skin.

"Jesus Christ." He breathed, blinking rapidly.

Duff looked confused and a bit sheepish. "I uh... I'm sorry."

"No no, " Axl said, trying to smile reassuringly. "It's not you. I just... You look nice." It seemed today was the day he ran his mouth with absolutely no filter. "I mean... You look good."

Fuck, did this guy even swing that way? What if he got all offended and tried to beat him to death. He didn't seem like the type but...

The blonde beamed at him. "Really? I uh... Thanks, you look pretty good too." If Slash were here, he'd mock him for that shitty compliment.

Axl smirked, mood improving already. "That's it? Just pretty good?"

Duff snorted, "I thought beautiful would be cliché, ya know, after last time."

They stood there for a while, just smiling and staring at each other like saps, till Axl realised he had business to take care of.

"I uh... I gotta go, Duff." The man looked a bit surprised Axl knew his name. "I'm heading out."

"You're not working tonight?" He tried his best to keep the nagging disappointment from his tone.

Axl shook his head, smiling a little. "Nah, I've got some stuff to take care of."

Duff frowned lightly, biting on his bottom lip. Coming here tonight probably didn't make sense after all. "Alright. Have fun, Uhm... What's your name? I know Slash calls you Red but..."

The redhead smiled, slow and sweet, eyes filled with amusement. "I'll tell you when you ask me out."

He sauntered away, leaving Duff standing there, chuckling in helpless amazement.

\----------------

Axl's mood didn't last, as soon as he was out of Duff's presence, his smile withered like a flower away from the sunlight for too long.

Come to think of it, Duff was a lot like the sun, wasn't he? Golden, his skin, his hair, was he always like that? Lively and bright. Axl found he desperately needed to know. And that's what got him through the first half of the night, whether he was kneeling in front of some stranger, lending his hand or his mouth (or both), he focused on the light. He barely knew Duff enough to truly experience the full intensity of it, but he had this nagging suspicion that the man only got brighter.

Maybe it was just a stupid crush. But he had said Axl looked 'pretty good'. Maybe it didn't mean anything?

"It's not like I _want_ it to, or anything." He said under his breath.

"What was that?" The stranger was zipping his fly, peering at Axl curiously from under the brim of his hat. "Am I getting a bonus or something kid?"

"No." He snapped, suddenly reminded of where he was and what he was doing. It wasn't a pleasant reminder. "Just gimmie my money, and fuck off."

The man laughed, sinister and ugly. Axl shuddered, but tried to disguise it. The alley was empty, he probably couldn't take the man alone, it wouldn't do to show fear.

"Watch your mouth." The man handed him some crumpled up bills. "I liked it much better when it was on my cock."

It took herculean effort to resist replying, he focused on counting the bills as the man walked away without a backward glance.

"What the fuck?" Axl barked, trailing him out onto the sidewalk. "We agreed on sixty, this is twenty five."

The man whirled around, fixing Axl with a look that made his him crawl. "That's enough for a hit of whatever's you poison right?"

The sheer desperation made him brave, he advanced on the man, baring his teeth threateningly. "I'm not a fucking junkie, man. And I need my money. Plus, this couldn't buy shit."

"Not my problem." The man replied, shrugging nonchalantly. He turned towards the streetlight, and only then did Axl notice the scar stretching from the corner of his mouth to his cheek. It looked neat, precise, as if a very steady hand had lovingly carved it there. It almost looked like—

The man turned to face him, and Axl could see a similar scar on his right.

A Glasgow smile.

He backed away instinctively and the man grinned. "What's that? Cat got your tongue?"

"Look man, I don't want any trouble." He backed away, not stupid enough to enter the alley again, trying to inch closer to the light. The man was dangerous, he could tell, suddenly the money wasn’t all that important anymore.

"It's OK, I understand." His voice sounded reasonable, but his dark hair obscured his eyes. Axl couldn't be sure. "Here's the rest."

The man held out the other thirty five in his palm, smiling a bit. It did nothing to soothe Axl, but he fucking needed it, OK? Every dollar counted.

What happened next was almost a blur, one second he was reaching towards the cash and the next his hand was grasped in a punishingly hard grip.

"All you junkies are the same." The man was hissing, twisting his arm cruelly. "You want more money? You'll have to earn it."

Then he was dragging Axl back toward the alley, seemingly unbothered by the redhead's effort to get away.

"Let me go!" He screamed, digging his nails into the man’s arm, flailing wildly. "HELP!"

His efforts only got his other hand seized; the man yanked him roughly, almost smiling. "No one can hear you out here." Axl managed to land a kick somewhere on the man's shin, felt a sick satisfaction when his heavy leather boots connected with a dull thud.

"You're gonna pay for that." The man whispered, squeezing his wrists harder.

This was it, huh?

This was how he'd die? Because he was pretty sure the man wouldn't spare him after whatever he had planned. Not when he was looking at Axl like that, eyes cold and unfeeling.

Eyes like Stephen's.

The world had a strange way of working itself out, everything was connected. Everything related.

So when Axl finally stopped fighting, when he gave up, squeezed his eyes shit and went limp, he never expected to be suddenly released unto the hard, cold concrete.

"What the fuck are you doing?" An unfamiliar voice yelled, Axl blinked blearily. "Get the fuck outta here before I blow your brains out!"

At first, Axl thought he was saved by a pretty lady in a _very_ tight leather dressed. But once she turned around and offered him her hand, be realised she was very male.

"You okay, kid?" The voice was definitely male. Though the curly blonde hair and khol-rimmed baby-blues gave nothing away. He was pretty, small, dressed in a short leather dress and cute little heels. His red lips were moving, but Axl had zoned him out.

Axl blinked at her, him. "I'm... Yeah, thanks to you." His gaze snapped to the gun the man was holding.

"Did he hurt you?" Someone fussed, and Axl finally noticed there were others behind the small man, dressed in a similar fashion. "We heard you screaming, we work around the corner."

"No... He didn't get a chance to." The redhead rubbed at his sore wrists, still in a daze. He stooped to retrieve the bills the man had dropped, the men said nothing, turned their eyes away from the desperation with which he scrambled for them.

"What's your name honey?" The man asked after he had righted himself.

"Axl. Axl Rose." His voice was shaking, but his smile was genuine.

"I'm Steven," the blonde replied. "The pretty brunette is Tracii and the big guy is Lemmy."

"Hey, thanks for your help." Axl watched Steven tuck the gun in his jacket after flicking a little button at the side. "I don't know what I would've done..."

"Hey, you can't be out here without protection." Steven said, "You look exhausted, wanna go get coffee?"

Axl had never gotten invited to coffee by a drag queen, and he wasn't about to turn it down.

"Yeah, sure." Axl almost giggled. "Do you always dress like that?"

Tracii laughed, and the redhead’s eyes were drawn to him. He was incredibly beautiful; Axl felt just a bit self conscious. "He totally would if he could, but no, he has a day job."

"It would probably be weird if I showed up to the record store in drag, huh?" Steven nudged Axl gently. "They'd probably all hit on me anyway."

They went to a diner some part of town Axl had never seen, they chatted about nothing, bursting into laughter at every passing second. In that hour, Axl forgot all his problems, laughter after all was the best medicine, and they were a funny bunch. Steven was loud and animated; he drew Axl in almost effortlessly. Lemmy was surprisingly quiet, he was more concerned about the exact colour of Axl’s hair than sharing any information about himself. Tracii flirted easily with almost everyone (for a second Axl thought he was genuinely hitting on him or something, but another couple of minutes in his presence cleared the air). The blonde gave him his number at the end, begging him to come hang out some other time. It was only when he was back in his car, shifting around, trying and failing to get comfortable that he realised he had been lonely.

In a city, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people, unable to pick out a few friendly faces on the crowd.

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was dying yesterday, but apparently it was just cramps.  
> :) YAY vaginas!


	3. Chapter 3

"So, you want to do more?" Michelle asked, peering at Axl curiously. The redhead fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yes, ma'am." He knew it was rude not to make eye contact, but he didn't think he could. Not after last night. Necessity or no, it filled him with shame. And even though he made more in a night that he made working nightly at Michelle's, he wouldn't protest doing things the right way.

"Aw, kid, quit with the ma'am already." Michelle put her cigarette out in the ash tray, muttering under her breath. "What happened to your day job?"

Axl chewed on his tongue, keeping his eyes lowered. "I got fired."

She stared at him, lips twitching at their corners. "Why?"

He recounted the series of events that led up to him losing his shit. "And then I told Bob to fuck off and that he was an overworking, underpaying, obese asshole." Axl almost jumped a foot into the air when Michelle burst into laughter.

"Kid, you're crazy!" She hiccuped, running her fingers through her close-cropped hair. "Man, I can't think of anything around here that needs extra hands...unless you wanna be a part of the entertainment." She smirked, watching his face go ten shades darker.

"A... A stripper?" Well if he had to. He hated dancing before crowds, and as far as he was concerned, he sucked at dancing on a whole—

Michelle laughed, head tossed back, shoulders shaking with the force of it. "Oh sweetie, no. I meant a part of the band, but hey if you want to..."

"No thanks." He said a bit too quickly. "I'll take the band."

Her laughter trailed off, but a smile still lingered on her lips. "You play? Or sing?"

"I can do both." But he'd rather do neither; music... wasn't one of his favourite things anymore. It used to be an escape, but as soon as they found out he had the talent, it turned into a cage, more a method of control than anything.

Eight times a week.

Eight times a week they had to go to church, and every single time they would dress him up and parade him before the congregation like some kind of circus animal.

He found no joy in it after a while; there was no joy in being forced to sing praises to a god who had forsaken him and his siblings. A god that casually looked the other way while Stephen sexually abused Amy every chance he got; a god that allowed good people to suffer, a god so far detached from his "beloved" creations that the idea of him seemed alien.

"Well which one would you like to do?" Michelle watched his face carefully, frowning a bit. He didn't look too happy about any of this.

Axl shrugged nonchalantly, "I'd like to play piano." Technically, he'd have to sing too but, at least he'd be half hidden by the piano.

She hummed, swivelling in her chair. "Okay, but you'd have to stop waiting tables, since you'd be working nights too."

Axl sighed, he wouldn't miss it. Well. He'd miss Duff and chatting to Aiden but..."Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me yet, you still have to audition." she snickered. "Let's see how well you hold up under all those annoying requests. You'll get Piano Man at least five times a day. It drove the last guy nuts."

Well at least it wasn't 'Amazing Grace' or something equally annoying. "I can handle it." He said, with more confidence than he felt.

\---------------

“So let me get this straight, you _didn’t_ ask him out?”

Duff sighed, tapping his fountain pen impatiently on his desk. “No, Slash, I did not.” Wasn’t it lunch time yet? He did enjoy his job, but he was feeling a bit restless today, and trying to do shit would probably be disastrous. The last time he showed up to an important meeting distracted, he ended up not-so-subtly engaging in a riveting game of Tetris beneath the table—needless to say his dad _and_ his clients were annoyed.

Then he had to sit through another two hour lecture about how important being the CEO of this reputable firm was blah- blah-blah. He wasn't looking forward to another one.

“Why?”

“Because, he was heading out. I didn’t get a chance to.” He lowered his voice to a barely audible murmur. “What was I supposed to do? Hold him hostage?”

“So you didn’t get a chance to… as in, you didn’t speak to him?” Slash didn’t believe that one bit.

“Well… I did, for like, five minutes but—”

“Aha! I fucking knew it. You stalled.”

The blonde snorted a bit too loudly, earning a curious glance from the petite brunette sorting files in his office. He forgot all about her. “Listen, so what?” He whispered, “I’ll ask him—”

“Tonight. You’ll ask him tonight.” The brunette sounded way too smug for Duff’s liking. “Or, I’ll just… go _talk_ to him for you.”

“Slash…” And yes, that probably counted as a whine, but this was a _very_ special situation.

“Nope. No whining. I _know_ you, you’ll just fumble around, stalling and making excuses till it’s too late. Remember Megan?”

“That was different.” Ok it wasn’t really, he was fucked all the way for Megan during college, and basically, he stalled until Slash got his hands on her. They laughed about it now, but back then, he was pretty pissed off—even though it was his own fault.

“Not by much, the only difference was that I had no clue you liked her. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“I’m over it.”

“Yeah, I mean, I sorta got you into dick now so…”

Duff choked down his laughter, trying to remind himself he was at work. “I’m hanging up before you get me trouble.”

“I mean, I’m not wrong, am I?” Slash snickered, “One night of drunken ‘exploration’ and you’re cock-hungry for the rest of your life, you're wel—”

“Bye.” He hung up before Slash could complete that sentence and fuck up his head even more.

Madge, his secretary, is giving him the strangest look over the brim of her glasses. “Everything alright, Mike?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said after clearing his throat. He was going to _strangle_ Slash later.

\------------------

Duff needed to be here for this.

Holy Shit.

Slash expected Duff to arrive much earlier if his threatening voicemail was anything to go by, but it was some time after ten and the fucker still had not shown.

Grumbling, Slash fished his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text.

**Slash** : _Get your ass over here, you need to see/hear this._

**Duff** _: See what? Omw_

**Slash** _: Guess who’s on stage tonight? ;) Hint: He has shiny red hair. ps: Don't text and drive-- that's dangerous._

**Duff** : _Fuck, gimmie five minutes._

The brunette chuckled as he lowered his phone, “I’m not accepting responsibility for any tickets you pick up man.” He reverted his attention to the stage, back to Axl, who still had his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration (which was pretty impressive, since Slash couldn’t play the piano for shit without keeping his eyes on the keys at all time). This was probably the third time he had done Piano Man, some pudgy guy up front kept shouting for an encore, but Slash didn’t mind, and judging by how enthralled every being in the room seemed, he doubted they had any complaints.

_And the piano it sounds like a carnival_  
And the microphone smells like a beer  
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar  
And say, "Man, what are you doing here?"

It was so strange listening to him sing, because though he was effortlessly hitting every note and charming the crowd, he didn’t seem to be enjoying it in the least. Axl shifted forward, tongue darting out to wet his lips, hair falling into his eyes.

_Sing us a song you're the piano man_  
_Sing us a song tonight_  
_Well we're all in the mood for a melody_  
_And you've got us feeling alright_

Only after he has played the final note does Axl finally open his eyes, smiling a bit shyly at the roaring crowd. Slash almost screamed when someone taps his shoulder.

Duff simply rolled his eyes at Slash’s behaviour. “Chill out, it’s not the IRS.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, I pay _all_ my taxes.” He sniped, almost growling at the look of disbelief the blonde throws at him.

“Do you want to test that it court?”

“Shut up.” Slash stares at his empty shot glass, then back at Duff. “You missed it.”

“Nope, I was watching for a while, I caught the final verse.” He sighed almost wistfully, “He sure is something isn’t he?”

The cheering had died down, and Axl was just sitting there, staring into the crowd, pleading with his eyes. “Uhm… Any final requests? No?” _Please no._

Slash nudged Duff roughly, “This is your chance, request something.”

“ _What_?” He hissed, ducking his head when a few heads turn. “Ask him what?” There was no fucking way in hell Slash expected him to ask him out like this.

“To _sing_ for you.”

Oh. That made more sense.

He was just working up the courage to request something when Axl muttered something along the lines of ‘Thank You very much’ and stalks right off the stage without further ado.

“Well.” Slash slid from his chair, taking his empty glass with him. “He’s all yours.”

Duff was staring at him like he suddenly began speaking French.

“While you were busy running red lights, I talked to him for a bit.” Without another word, he walked away, leaving a perplexed Duff in his wake. When Axl sauntered over to him and made himself comfortable in Slash’s chair.

“Hey, Blondie.” He rasped, voice roughened from all the singing. “How’s it going?”

Duff should not be thinking about how deep his voice is, nor should he be wondering just what he’d sound like when— “Hi.” Pure thoughts only.

Then they were sitting there, both sporting shy little smiles, seeing only each other.

_Fuck, we’re being ridiculous_ , Duff thought to himself, _this feels like high school all over again._

“So, are you free Saturday ni—” He began.

And Axl’s traitorous lips were saying ‘ _Yes’_ before the question had even been completed. “Oops.” He whispered, a bit embarrassed by his own enthusiasm.

Duff’s giggle surprised him, but soon he was joining in, laughing so hard his eyes watered. “Well, I guess _that’s_ settled.”

“Christ.” Axl chuckled, cheeks still flushed. “My mom would swat me over the head for appearing so unladylike.”

“And mine would take my head off for the whole thing being so awkward.” Duff added. “You were great tonight, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He replied, heart going through a whole set of acrobatics. It was a good thing his eyes were closed during the last song, if he had noticed Duff walk in, he was bound to screw up.

The blonde leaned forward conspiratorially and Axl quickly noted he smelled damn good. He found himself being pulled towards him, body moving on its own. “Promise you won’t tell mum she raised a loser?”

“As long as you won’t tell mine how I more or less threw myself at you in such an unladylike manner.” He swooned theatrically, giggling when Duff actually held out his pinkie. His laughter cut off when they finally touched, just this little contact and his heart was racing, He wondered briefly if Duff felt it too, possibly, since the man was giving him this indecipherable look, and now that he had noticed Duff’s eyes were just a bit hazel, he couldn’t un-notice it.

_Fuck_.

Axl really wanted to hold his hand, just tangle their fingers and enjoy the silence. He could imagine Izzy giving him this smug little look and saying _‘I dunno man, that’s kinda gay, even for you.’_

“Well, well, well.” Slash drawled, voice filled with laughter. “I left you alone for five minutes and you’re already holding pinkies?” The blonde rolled his eyes and pulled away, Axl couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

Aiden huffed, looping his arm with Slash’s and shaking his head. “Downright scandalous. I don’t know what’s with youngsters nowadays. In my days we’d do that beneath the privacy of a table.” The redhead grinned despite himself, sharing a look with the blonde who seemed so used to Slash’s bullshit.

“Be safe kids. Remember, God is watching.” Duff chuckled when Slash crossed himself with a flair.

“I see you’ve found a partner in crime.” Axl muttered, jerking his chin in Slash’s direction.

Aiden shrugged, “We have similar goals.”

“Ruining my life?”

“Maybe…” The bartender smirked, “Now that I have your attention, Michelle wants you.”

Axl groaned, “Is this about me walking off stage?”

“I think it’s about all the money you raked in tonight,” Aiden patted his shoulder. “Ya did good, kid. Who knew you could do things other than sass customers.”

Duff smothered a laugh in his palm and pretended he didn’t hear that. Slash, however, wouldn’t let it pass. “He doesn’t sass Duff though, does he? Strange.”

Aiden slapped a hand to his jaw, widening his eyes. “I wonder _why_?”

The redhead made himself scarce, there was no way he was sitting out the rest of this. Slash could have his fucking seat back too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why everyone's so taken with 'Piano Man'. I swear, every bar, every karaoke I've ever been to.  
> I mean, I like Billy Joel just fine, but ffs, play something different.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is trash, but so am I.. *shrugs* :)

Axl, in typical fashion, went through the week barely considering his date. 

It wasn't exactly his fault, Michelle kept him busy practising the songs he didn't know and tried to help him be a little less shy. If he were being completely honest with himself, he was kinda  _enjoying_  himself as he once used to. Especially with Michelle perched on the piano, belting out Doris Day while he played with Aiden and the others as the audience.

 "Shaking the blues away, unhappy news away." She'd sing, rocking from side to side. "Axl! Back me up."

And frequently he found himself joining her without a second thought, just letting the lyrics flow without overthinking it. It was easy to lose himself like this, and he didn't mind one bit. 

He kept checking in on Stu, carefully stashed money away, everyday brought him closer to his goal. He could do it, he could save them, save them from turning out like him.

But of course, it all caught up with him Saturday morning when he woke up (in a motel, he could afford that a bit more often on his new 'salary'). 

What the fuck was he supposed to _do_ on a date? He'd never been on a date before, unless trips with Izzy to the abandoned train tracks to get high counted (and he was sure they didn't, because he had never had to dress up to impress Izzy). Panicking, he did the one thing he could think of. He called Steven, babbling on about the need of his 'services'. 

A few hours later, he was being peered at and prodded by three curious drag queens, minus the drag of course.

"So, you're going on a date huh?" Steven asked him, and Axl was still weirded out by the sight of him in normal clothes, he looked pretty much the same, and somehow strangely different.

The redhead sighed, sinking into the sofa. "In like two hours."

"What are you wearing?" Tracii frowned at him. "What kind of date? Client? Boyfriend? Wait, is it a girl--"

"You're freaking him out." Seeing Lemmy in leather and biker boots was a lot easier to absorb. He sat cross-legged on the carpet, eating cereal while quietly watching Top Gear. "He looks about ready to run away."

And yeah, the barrage of questions had him trying to disappear between the cushions, but at least he could attempt to answer one. "Uhm... it's a he."

Tracii squealed gleefully, though he backed off a bit in an attempt to give Axl some space. "Okay, well, that's good."

The blonde rolled his eyes, "You have any idea where you're going?"

"Just... out?" Fuck, what if it was some place fancy? Duff would tell him, right? He didn't even have fancy clothes to speak of.

"Wow." Lemmy smiled faintly, twisting to shoot him an amused glance. "You have no idea, do you?"

Axl's breath left him with a woosh, his shoulders drooped. "None. But I'm sure it's nowhere fancy, we're just gonna hang out." He  _hoped._

The men all stared expectantly at him.

"What?"

"Well... who is he?" Steven chirped, eyes shining. "Your boyyyyfrieeend?" He teased, laughing when Axl's face flushed hot.

"No- well, it's the first t--"

"A first date?" Tracii squealed, and even Lemmy looked interested. "You like him don't you?"

"Well it's why we're going out." The redhead said wryly. 

Steven shrugged. "He has a point." 

"Aren't we supposed to be getting him ready?" Axl silently thanked God for Lemmy, because if he hadn't pointed it out, he would have sat there all night. "Pretty sure we have less that two hours now."

That set them into motion, Steven was dragging him towards the shower while Tracci dashed off to his room for his beauty supplies. Lemmy sat rooted to the carpet, glad he could finally watch his show in peace. Axl returned freshly showered, with damp hair, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe. 

"Oh wait, what are you wearing?" Steven asked, glancing around the room. "Did you bring your clothes?"

"Yeah, in that bag." Axl jerked his chin towards the sofa. "I'll be right back." He could dress himself, than you very much. He was a lot of things, and fashionable was certainly one of them. 

He's barely back in the living room before Tracii is on him.

"I'm in charge of makeup and hair." he dragged him towards the vanity despite Steven's protests.

"I wanna do his makeup."

"Well, you already helped him get dressed." The brunette snorted as he clicked on the blow dryer. 

"So?" Steven watched, filled with jealousy, as Tracii combed through Axl's shiny red locks. That looked fun. 

"So it's _my_ turn."

"No way, I wanna tr--" But Axl's laughter cut Steven's complaint off, the redhead shoulders shook with the force of it. Steven furrowed his brows and attempted to keep a straight face through the whole ordeal.

"You both are such infants." Axl breathed, sniffing his very shiny, very nice smelling hair (honestly, he had no idea what Tracii had put in it he wanted 50 bottles of it.) "You can play in my hair later." He promised when he noticed the blonde's sulky facial expression.

"Exactly." With that, Tracii went back to working his magic. "So what's the deal, you guys taking it slow?"

It took Axl about a full minute to realise he was the one being spoken to. "Uh, yeah I guess."

"So you guys haven't like.. done anything yet?" Tracii's brown eyes met his in the mirror. "Forgive me if I'm a bit curious, he knows about your job, yes?"

"Oh." Ahh...  _that_  job. "That's not actually my job, I just needed the money..." He's not sure how to explain that particular incident. Thankfully, the brunette nodded and dropped the subject.

Axl belatedly realised he might have offended the man. "Not that there's anything wr--"

Tracii just laughed and waved him off. "It's okay, kid."

When they were through, Axl felt like a new man. A decidedly prettier man. His hair shone like it had never before, and maybe he flipped it a lot more than necessary just to have an excuse to run his hands through it-- sue him, it was his hair. The eyeliner brought out his eyes, and Axl was pretty sure that at some point Tracii whipped out mascara but he couldn't be sure. His clothes were simple enough, jeans, tee and a leather jacket-- nut really, he couldn't imagine himself in anything else.

"Oh, he looks so fuckable, I told you eyeliner was a nice touch, his eyes are glowing." Tracii crooned, pouting when Steven elbowed him. "What? It's true."

"Don't scar the kid."

"You already have." Lemmy grunted, his show was done, so his full attention was on Axl. "You look nice."

"Thank you." Axl replied, feeling a bit self-conscious. "Thank you all for your help." And he really meant it, he had no idea what he’d do without them.

Steven swiped dramatically at his eyes, "OH, he's all grown up."

Lemmy's soft "Don't do anything reckless" was a stark contrast to Tracii's "Suck his soul through his dick if you get the chance", but hey, advice was advice.

\----------

He wasn’t nervous when he left Steven’s house.

He wasn’t nervous when he got in his car and drove back to Michelle’s.

He wasn’t nervous when he got out of his car and peered at his reflection in the tinted mirrors.

Once he noticed Duff leaning against his car, smirking faintly, everything went to shit.

“Oh.” He said, lamely, a bit embarrassed at have being caught preening. “I’m sorry, did I keep you waiting?” He liked to think the shudder than went through him was from the chilly night air and not from the look the blonde was levelling at him.

Duff beamed at him and for a second Axl forgot how to function. “Not at all, I just got here.” He paused as if truly noticing the redhead for the first time. “Oh.” His lips were slightly parted, eyes filled with what Axl hoped was admiration.

“Oh?” Axl fidgeted a bit, ducking his head to stare at his boots. “Oh no, or oh yes?”

The blonde’s laughter soothed his nerves. “Oh _yes_.” His voice dropped a register, and if that wasn’t suggestive, Axl didn’t know shit. “Come on…” He paused, giving him a chance to change his mind. “Unless, you needed to go inside?”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Axl tried to calm his heart. “Nah, we can leave.”

He’s fastening his seat-belt before he even considered just where the hell they were going. “Hey, Blondie—”

Duff’s lips lifted upwards almost imperceptibly at the nickname.

“—where are we going?”

He chuckled, “That’s a surprise. My name is Michael by the way.”

Axl grinned, yeah Slash had kinda revealed that ‘big’ secret in their little talk before his arrival last week. “Oh, I know. Blondie suits you better though.”

“You knew?” Well, it wasn’t top secret but… "Lemme guess..."

“Slash.” Axl giggled when Duff hissed swears under his breath. “Don’t you want to know mine?”

“Hmm? What was that, _Axl_?” The redhead gasped, and Duff failed to stop the laughter from bubbling up. “Yup. Aiden.” Well truthfully, Aiden had said William, following that up by quickly warning him about Axl's dislike for the name.

“I’ve been _betrayed_?”

“’fraid so.”

“Is nothing sacred?” He whined, sighing dramatically. He’d have to wring Aiden’s ear later. The silence that followed isn’t strained, but he itched to fill it nonetheless.  He didn’t like silences. When there was silence, his mind added its two cents. “Mind if I put on some music?”

“Sure, just turn—” But Axl was already pressing the power button and flooding the car with obnoxiously loud KISS. Duff winced, about to apologize but Axl’s little glee-filled squeal stopped him.

“Really man? KISS? Did you plan for my arrival?” He was already bobbing his head to the beat. “Loud! I wanna hear it loud! Right between the eyes.”

Duff relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, panic subsiding enough for him to help Axl out. “Loud, wanna hear it loud, don’t want no compromise!”

“Dibs on being car DJ.” Axl chirped, breath hitching at Duff’s low chuckle.

“It’s all yours.”

They have something of a karaoke session in the car with Duff drumming away on the steering wheel and Axl singing his heart out to every song that came on. He cut off abruptly when he realized where they were going. “Are we… going to an amusement park?”

“Affirmative.”

Axl tried in vain not to let on just how excited he was. Yes, that might be a bit childish of him, but he had never actually been to an amusement park. The closest thing to that in Lafayette was the crappy fair they held every year, and the main attraction was a merry-go-round. So yeah, this was a big deal.

Duff was radiating amusement next to him, so the man must have picked up on the excitement thrumming beneath his skin. “I guess I made the right choice?”

“Fucking right you did.” The music was long forgotten now, because all he wanted to do was try every single ride, stuff himself and have a memorable time. As soon as Duff pulled into the parking lot, the redhead had hopped out of the car and, with single-minded determination, strut off towards the gates. The blonde’s laughter reminded him he was forgetting something very important—his date. Flushing, he returned for Duff, entwining their fingers sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s my first time.” He rushed to clarify, “My first time at an amusement park, that is.”

“Really?” Duff squeezed his hand gently as they strolled towards the entrance. “We used to come here a lot, mom and I. It’s my favorite park.”

Axl felt a dull pang of jealousy, he wished he had anything close to a normal life. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Are there roller coasters?” He asked softly, blue eyes alight with energy. “Really fast ones? Like in the movies?

Duff was starting to worry his face would freeze in the dopey smile he frequently wore while around Axl. “Well yes, but it’s a bit—”

“We’re going there first.” He stated, it really wasn't up for debate. No way in hell he's missing out a roller coaster ride.

Unfortunately, that resulted in Axl throwing up as soon as his feet were on the (beautiful, he's never taking his feet off it again) ground. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he was throwing up in front of his crush on the first date, the fact that Duff was laughing uncontrollably or the fact that they couldn't make out when his mouth probably tasted like.. ya know... vomit.

“Oh God—”

 _“Not_ funny.”

“Baby, your face.” The endearment made Axl smile for a short while before his stomach lurched again. Oh fuck.  Duff rubbed soothing circles on his back even as his laughter continued. “I told you, it might be a _bit_ much for your first ride.”

Axl was thankful Duff was so patient with him. “I just didn’t think it would be so _fast—” and noisy... and terrifying._ It was fun and all, until the loops came up and his skinny ass was hanging upside down, with only a man-made mechanism keeping him strapped in. Bullshit.

“Well… it _is_ a roller coaster, Axl.” He had stopped laughing, but his words were heavy with silent amusement.

“Oh god, why is everything spinning.” The redhead groaned as he attempted to right himself. “I’m never going on a roller coaster again.” The universe had impeccable timing as usual, because just that moment, Axl heard a chorus of delighted squeals and glanced up to see carts zipping by in a flurry of bright lights.

“Axl…” Duff tried. If the look on Axl’s face was anything to go by, he was hatching a spectacularly bad idea. He loved that look despite himself. "You're not thinking what I'm thinking."

“We _have_ to go on that one.”

They did. He didn’t throw up this time, although he momentarily forgot how his feet worked while back on solid land—he counted the whole ordeal as a win. For the remainder of the evening, they took it slow (and Axl was endlessly thankful for that), feeling each other out.

“What do you do?” Axl asked as he accepted a giant teddy bear Duff had won him. He hid his pleased grin behind the mass of fluff. “You already know where I work.”

Duff hesitated, staring off into the distance before answering. “Family business, no big deal really. The most boring job ever, but it pays well.” Understatement of the century.

That wasn’t really any sort of answer. “Well, what do you do every day?”

‘ _Whatever father tells me to_.’ He thought bitterly. “Attend meetings, sign whatever Madge brings in—“ waste away “Meet clients, die a little inside— _oops_ , did I say that out loud?”

Axl snorted, bumping into him gently. “Yes. Yes you did, ya big drama queen.”

Duff wasn't joking, but he supposed that was a bit heavy for the first date. Or... ever.

He, apparently, was from Seattle. So any accent Axl had detected could be chalked up to that. He (obviously) liked rock and roll, was a bit stupid about cars and seriously big on History. He’d watch almost anything, but Star Trek and Stargate were—

“Woah, woah.” Axl stopped him, “What shirt?”

Duff smirked, “Gold shirt, obviously. Don’t I just give off an air of authority?” He paused mid-stride to strike a ridiculous pose.

“Why am I not surprised, Goldilocks?” Axl chuckled. “I’d take blue, because Spock is sorta hot.”

Duff stopped walking, grabbed his shoulders. “Axl…”

“W- What?” He tried to calm himself, was he asking…? Could it be…? It was wishful thinking, it was just the first date and although things were going great now, he had thrown up like an idiot earlier so—

“Will you be my Spock?”

Axl blinked, dumbfounded. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“I _can’t_ be Spock, you’re the taller one.” He pointed out, a bit frustrated. “I’d have to be your _Kirk_.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, sighing theatrically. “Must you always be so logical? See, you fit the Spock role already.”

That had led to them launching into an argument about who would be who. It really wasn’t much of an argument, since Duff spent most of it listening to Axl argue his side of the case while stuffing his face and laughing.

“You find my plight entertaining?” He moaned, sneakily stealing some fries from Duff’s plate.

Duff stole a few back from Axl. “Small people are always amusing.”

That had triggered another argument of ‘I’m not small, you’re just tall’ and by the time they were through, it was being announced over the loud speaker that the park was closing. The walk back to the parking lot took a lot longer than the first; Axl clutched his teddy in one hand and Duff’s hand in the other, frequently halting to point out something he hadn’t noticed before. People milled around them, but Axl barely noticed them, he was too busy watching Duff’s hair shine under the lights, listening to him whisper about the time he first came here with his mom, treasuring every time the man brushed against him.

“Tell me about your first time on the roller coaster, I can’t be the only one who threw up.”

“Nope. It was just you.” But Duff humoured him, revealing how his mother had freaked out more than he had at ten years old. “She was clinging to me the whole time, man.”

He was just stalling, he didn’t want to leave.

Duff seemed just as hesitant. But soon enough they were driving away in comfortable silence, with Axl glancing back towards the bright lights every now and then. “Wow, that was quick.”

“Yeah.” Axl agreed, shuffling closer to Duff as much as he could. “It was _fun_ though.” _I wish it never had to end._

“Hey, it’s still early—” No, it wasn’t. It was almost eleven, but Duff didn’t care. He was tired, yes, but he preferred Axl’s company to that of his empty house. “—wanna grab something to drink?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Technically, he shouldn’t even be drinking. But what harm could it do? He turned twenty one next month and this was L.A, no one gave two shits either way. He’d do almost anything to linger in Duff’s presence for a while longer.


	5. Chapter 5

They didn’t go back to Michelle’s like he thought they would.

Instead, Duff took them to an almost empty bar and chose to sit in the farthest corner, away from the lights and prying eyes.

“What’s with you and the dark?” Axl curled his fingers around his glass, leaning forward. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Come to think of it, I’ve only ever seen you at night.”

Duff stared at him in fond exasperation. “Yeah, that’s my big secret, I’m fucking Batman.”

Axl quirked a brow. “Who tops?” He couldn't resist it if he tried, and honestly, he hadn't tried at all.

Duff stared at him blankly before bursting into laughter. “Okay fine, you get points for that one.”

“Do I have to give a speech?” Axl teased, pushing stray locks of hair behind his ears. “First of all, I’d like to thank Mich for employing me at her noble institution—”

“—oh yeah.” Duff’s posture suddenly straightened. “I forgot to ask, where are you from?”

“What do you mean?” Axl felt his stomach sinking, he didn’t want to talk about it.

“You _sound_ country.” He mused. "I don't even think you're aware of it."

“Are you making fun of _my_ accent, Mr. Seattle?” He deflected, heart still going a mile a minute, because nope, they were not going there.

“No no.” Duff raised his hands in a placating gesture, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Your accent is lovely, it spells romance. I’m just curious.”

Axl lowered his hackles, huffing an amused breath. “Well, you’re sorta right. I’m from Lafayette.” Duff just stared at him, the redhead rolled his eyes. “ _Indiana_ , punk.”

Duff nodded sagely. “Ahhh yes... Wheat fields… horse fields… potato—”

Axl feigned tossing his glass at him, laughing hard enough for his sides to hurt.  “We don’t _grow_ horses, for one. And our most important crop is corn and soybeans—”

“What’s that?” Duff cupped a hand to his ear, furrowing his brows. “All this Midwest-talk is confusing.”

“I hate you.” He deadpanned, although the ridiculous smile he was sporting was sending a completely different signal.

“I’m sure you do.” Duff’s smile was warm and sincere.  “So Indiana, huh? You’re a bit far from home.”

Axl suddenly found the grain of the wooden table endlessly fascinating. “Uh huh, I guess.”

“You’re here alone?” Axl nodded. “Don’t you miss your family?” The blonde watched him closely, noticing he was trying to make himself as small as possible. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.” He added, almost too low to hear over the buzz of the crowd and the jukebox.

Slowly, Axl dragged his gaze from the table, eyes a shocking blue- green (even now, he thought he would have gotten used to it). “Maybe not yet.”

“That’s fine, Red.” Duff looked away, leaning back to give Axl space. Such a thing was impossible in this cramped a booth, but Axl appreciated the gesture anyway. He was about to say as much, but Duff jerked upright suddenly, eyes alight with excitement.

Axl glanced around, searching for what had caused such a response. But nothing had change, the room was still smoky, the jukebox was still as noisy as ever and no one new had entered.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know this song.” Duff chuckled, pulling Axl’s eyes back to him. “Jim Croche? Don’t tell me you don’t know ‘bout Leroy Brown?” He was already rocking in his seat, unable to resist the pull of the music.

 

 _Well the south side of Chicago_  
Is the baddest part of town  
And if you go down there  
You better just beware  
Of a man name of Leroy Brown

 _Now Leroy more than trouble_  
You see he stand ‘bout six foot four  
All those downtown ladies call him "Treetop Lover"  
All the men just call him "Sir"

Axl listened closer, a wry smile curling his lips, because yeah, Leroy did sound interesting (and a lot like someone he knew). “No, sorry. Guess you’ll have to educate me.” The beat was infectious; it seemed familiar though he’d never heard it before.

“Well, I guess it’s my duty.” Duff sighed dramatically, but held out his hand—an offering. “Let’s dance.”

“ _No_.” He hadn’t intended to be so sharp, and Duff’s face fell flat. Axl thought he had been over that, dancing like this, but it turned out to be another sore spot he refused to acknowledge. _That was a long time ago. It shouldn’t matter._ But it did, and without permission he felt himself tense and pull away from Duff’s warmth. “I don’t dance, don’t ask me.” He tacked on, voice strained, though he was desperately trying to keep his tone teasing.

“Ah, ok Mr. Astaire. Your heart won’t let your feet do things they should do?” The blonde lowered his hand, his urge to dance suddenly gone. He could barely hear the music now anyway. All he could hear was Axl’s cold, clipped rejection.  Oh God, he had ruined it, hadn’t he?

That was a bit too close to the mark for Axl, but he forced a laugh anyway. “Yeah, something like that.”

Duff sneaked a glance at him, “Guess I’ll have to dance for you some time.” And the ruined moment was gone (but not forgotten) because Axl’s laughter was genuine this time, easy and open.

“I will hold you to that, Mr. Spock.” And he would, because fucked up or not, he wanted to see Blondie again—a lot.

“I want you to.” Duff smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He meant it, he wanted him to. “And it’s Kirk, blonde, remember?”

Axl scoffed, taking another sip of scotch to prep his vocal chords, he had a feeling they would be arguing about _that_ for a long while to come. “First of all, you’re a fucking giant…”

\-----------

When Axl collapsed in bed some time after one, the only thing occupying his mind was Michael. Michael was a swell guy, one of the swellest Axl had ever known. So he didn’t get to kiss him and totally botched that part (as he does with everything). The redhead had asked him to drop him back at Michelle’s since he had ‘business’ to do before he went ‘home’ (there was no way in high hell Duff would ever know about his living arrangements. He didn’t need pity or looks of disgust, he was working through it). They sat in the car in silence, exchanging words both meaningless and loaded, neither of them wanting to leave. When Duff had leaned over to kiss him, Axl had pressed himself against the door, almost having a panic attack when he noticed the march of hurt and disappointment over Duff’s face (it really was plain as day.)

_“No, it’s not you.” He explained haltingly, cheeks burning. “I… remember I threw up not so long ago…”_

The blonde had laughed and kissed him on his forehead, so close his hair brushed against Axl’s skin. _“Next time…”_ He had said, and that was all Axl could think for the remainder of the night. The crappy room didn’t change, the dull green wallpaper was still peeling, the sheets still had questionable stains and he was certain he had heard some kind of scratching in the walls- but he felt good, and he face hurt from all his smiling.

That was, until, he drifted off to sleep.

Axl didn’t really dream often, or he did and never remembered it. So when images formed in his mind, images of rusting train tracks overrun with weeds; clear images of the abandoned train platform that kids had turned into some kind of canvas ( ** _Sarah Webster loves Jason._** ** _Forever_** ), _Yeah well, Sarah’s fucking that senior Freddie Wallowitz, so clearly it wasn’t forever._

                 Everything was the same it seemed.

   Even **him.**

 **Always** him.

Izzy was there (he was somehow always there, Axl wasn’t surprised) in his dark glasses, dark clothes, with his wild dark hair. He was smoking, enjoying it clearly, Axl could tell it was a hot day, ( _somehow_ he could), used Izzy’s hair as some kind of weather instrument (damp and limp, wisps of it laying flat against the side of his face, wild as always. _Always_ wild).

Izzy hadn’t turned to look at him. “How long are you gonna keep staring?” Softly. As always. His voice was always so soft. Smoke danced from his lips in a straight line. Straight upwards, like he was a chimney (was there no wind?)—Axl desperately wanted to laugh.

Izzy always made him laugh.

“Hello, Izzy. You smoke like a chimney.” He tried, but he couldn’t speak. Oh, it was _that_ kind of dream. A message.

“You’re not taking care of yourself, Angel.” Still, he hadn’t turned to spare Axl a glance. He wanted to scream at Izzy to look at him. To take of the glasses, to show him his eyes. “You should.”

Axl sighed and sat there, stared at the rusted train tracks and the patches of grass. There were no flowers here. Nothing beautiful was here—except Izzy (but he wasn’t really here, was he?). “Ok mom.” He tried to say, “I’ll eat my veggies.”

Something was missing.

“Don’t sass me.” He could hear the smile in Izzy’s voice, but he couldn’t _see_ it—god, he wanted to— Izzy wouldn’t turn around. He couldn’t _make_ him. (Izzy had always done what he wanted, why should phantom Izzy be any different?)

Time passed… strangely, dreamlike maybe. An hour in a minute? Or had they been there for days? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to. He wanted to sit there forever.

“Something’s gonna happen, sugar.” Izzy dropped the cigarette. There was a flash of silver, it burned Axl’s eyes—oh yes, _that_ had been missing. “You should be careful. You should rely on your friends a little, yes?”

What does that mean?

Izzy wasn’t taking requests it seemed. He grabbed his cane and rose to his feet in one swift, graceful movement (moves like a fucking cat, always have). “I’ll see you _soon_ , Angel.” And he was just… gone…

_I’ll see you soon, Angel._

Axl’s eyes flew open, his heart wasn’t racing, he was… surprisingly calm.

_I’ll see you soon, Angel._

The redhead felt rested, but it was still dark. A glance at the clock confirmed it was only five. There was no way he was leaving early, he doesn’t have to leave till nine—and so help him god, he wasn’t about to waste his money.

I’ll see you soon…

“Shut up, asshole.” He rubbed his temples, typical of Izzy to fuck with his mind. He tried to be angry and found he couldn’t. Instead he felt giddy with relief, he barely remembered what Izzy said, but he didn’t care. It was a sign of some kind, and he wasn’t going to ignore it. “Take care of yourself, huh?” Blonde hair, a flash of green, a smile that could outshine the sun. “I’m _trying_ to.”

\----------

“You did what?!” Steven asked for perhaps the tenth time, clutching his pillow and squawking with laughter.

Axl sighed, but humored him anyway. “I threw up in the bushes.” He came over again, to give them the inside info. on his date. Axl was a bit hesitant to be there, he didn’t want to burden anyone, but they seemed to genuinely enjoy his company, so he relaxed a bit. What had Izzy said? Rely on your friends?

Tracii snorted, “Oh sweetie, I mean, I wouldn’t want you throwing up on his dic—”

“Tracii!” Lemmy growled, he didn’t sound half as reproving as he should have. Axl swore he could see the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “Tone it down.”

 Haha. His life was apparently funny enough to amuse Lemmy.

“Did he hold your hair?” Lemmy asked, voice dripping amusement.

Axl nodded. “Rubbed my back too.” He added, draining the contents of his juice box.

“Aww what?” Steven cooed, kicking his legs. “Lemmy, he held his hair.”

The brunette glanced up from his usual spot on the carpet. “Yes, Steven, I have ears—”

“But did you kiss?” Tracii interrupted, clambering over Steven. “You two are so cute.”

“You’ve never even seen us together.” Axl protested, though he was secretly pleased. He wasn’t hiding it very well if Steven’s knowing glance was anything to go by. “We couldn’t… cause… well,” he made a face, “vomit.” Thankfully no one laughed.

“You’re _adorable_.” And Tracci sounded so sincere Axl had trouble looking him right in the eyes.

“You’re just saying that cause you think I’m hot.”

Tracii was silent for a moment before he realized Axl was just teasing. His grin was sharp and predatory, “Well yes…wanna practice on me for Michael?”

“Tracy Richard Ulrich!” Lemmy stopped watching TV completely, but Axl and Tracii had already collapsed into boneless heaps, bodies racked with laughter.

Axl’s breathless ‘your middle name is Richard?’ triggered another bout of laughter.

“One of them is.” Steven murmured, face just a mask of innocence.

“What’s the other?” He managed to squeeze out between chuckles.

Tracii’s eyes widened, cheeks flushed. “Don’t you dare Steve—”

It was Lemmy who ratted him out. “Irving.” He said calmly, inspecting his nails.

Axl’s face got so red, Tracii began to worry. “Oh my god.” He wheezed, “You’re an old man. You were named by old men.”

“Very funny…” He drawled, pouting a bit.

“It _is_ funny.” Lemmy said in that quiet way of his and Tracii believed that _totally_ warranted a pillow aimed at his head.

_I'll see you soon, Angel._

Maybe he was looking forward to it, just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is the exact moment I started getting into writing this.  
> It's Wednesday morning, and there was no way in hell I could sleep before posting this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I hate English.  
> I'm late with this because I was working on this Vday thingiamajig for next week (and it's SlAxl, ok, so I got a little caught up).  
> Sorry.

_Crazy, crazy for feeling so lonely…_

_I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue…_

Tracii sighed, swaying in time to the piano. “Doesn’t he sound wonderful?” Axl had invited them over to watch him work that night, since Tracii made it his job to nag him about where he worked. Lemmy grunted, shrugging carelessly. But the brunette had already seen the intensity with which he was watching Axl, and the smile in his eyes.

When they had arrived earlier, the bar was noisy as all hell (and there was this lady lounging like a queen in the middle of it all—completely unbothered). As soon as the redhead got onstage, a hush fell over the patrons, so the three men had settled down, got comfortable and fixed their eyes upon him.

Boy was he glad they came.

“He didn’t tell us he could sing like that.” Steven mumbled, blue eyes wide. He was all dressed up, straightened hair falling soft around his shoulders, lipstick a deep shimmer blue.

“He doesn’t tell us much.” Lemmy observed, reaching into his jacket for his flask. “Now hush up.”

For once, the blonde doesn’t put up a fight.

By the time Axl’s done, the room had erupted into cheers and whistles. The redhead peered down at the crowd, gave a curt bow and got down from there like a bat out of hell.

“Axl!” Tracii yelled, waving his hand to get his attention. “Oh sweetie, you were so good. Wasn’t he great, Ian?”

Lemmy rolled his eyes, but offered a smile nonetheless. “You’re great, kid.”

The redhead blushed, ducking his head, unaccustomed to such compliments. “Thank you all, for everything. And for showing up.” He grinned at Steven and Tracii, “You look all dolled up tonight. But…” He trailed off as he glanced at Lemmy, he was of course, in his usual leather ensemble. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the man in drag since that first night they saved him.

The man barked out a sharp laugh, “I don’t do drag. I just have a really pushy partner.” He turned stern gaze on Tracii.

“But that first night…”

Tracii snickered. “Yeah, that first night was all me. He got all grouchy about me working late, and blah blah Steven isn’t much protection—”

The blonde choked on his sip of whiskey. “Hey!”

“—and it’s dangerous yatta yatta.” The brunette continued without a second glance at Steven. “So I told him to come to work with me. I didn’t expect him to, but…” He shrugged, “He’s a stubborn oaf.”

“Well…” Lemmy shifted, frowning gently. “Well, It’s _still_ dangerous.”

“You scared away my business.” Tracii replied flatly, though his eyes were filled with laughter. “Don’t worry, I can fight. You taught me to.”

Axl laughed, cutting off sharply when Lemmy glared at him.

“In six-inch heels?”

“Well, I scared that guy off while wearing heels and a tight dress.” Steven added, stretching his legs to show off his stilettos. Axl thought they were rather nice shoes.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Lemmy concluded, not admitting defeat but knowing damn well he couldn’t manage _both_ Steven and Tracii.

Axl cleared his throat to disguise a chuckle, “Anyway. Thanks for coming, stay and have fun. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go? But it’s so early.” Steven whined. “We haven’t even gone dancing yet.”

“I don’t dance.” The redhead said, a bit forcefully, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Besides, I’ve got a date.”

“Michael?” Tracii raised a brow.

“Who else?” Axl asked, rolling his eyes.

“Well is he picking you up from here?”

“Yeah, he should be here soon so… gotta go.”

“I wanna meet him.” Steven grinned mischievously. “I mean, if that’s alright with you.”

Axl snorted, ruffling his hair. “No, not yet. Maybe next time.”

“Have fun.” Tracii played with the pendant of his necklace, sporting a sly little smile. “Get laid this time.”

Lemmy began to protest, but Axl had long grown used to Tracii’s teasing. “I’ll let you know if I do.” With a quick wink, he was gone.

\---------------

Axl peered up at Duff from his knees (and not in the way he wanted to), heaving a sigh. “I fucking told you.”

“You’re going too fast.” Duff replied, taking a long slurp of his slushie (more like he was trying to hide his grin). “Come on, try again.”

A fucking skating rink.

The redhead groaned, incredibly put-upon. “I told you I can’t skate for shit.” This was probably the tenth time he’d landed on his fucking knees and they had only been here for five minutes. The blonde did a complicated looking twirl, hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding his drink. He didn’t spill a drop. “What kind of witchcraft…”

“It really isn’t.” Duff laughed, holding his hand out for Axl to grab. “You were doing fine, till you tried to race me.”

Axl pulled himself to his feet, clutching the blonde’s hand when he started to wobble dangerously. Chuckling softly, Duff looped a hand around his waist to steady him.

“Easy, Red.” The blonde rumbled in his ear, and Axl was having a hard time deciding if he should sass the fucker for handling him with kid gloves, or if he should melt into Duff’s embrace and sniff him like the depraved soul he is. He was halfway through doing the latter when he stopped himself.

He cleared his throat, voice no more than a whisper (because he didn’t trust himself not to say something totally embarrassing). “Again. Let’s do it again.”

They took it slow this time (Duff had dumped his drink and took to holding both of Axl’s hands while he skated in front of him); soon enough the redhead was gliding alongside Duff—still holding his hand—and staying on his feet for more than ten seconds.

“You’re a great teacher.” Axl observed while they were on a little break.

Duff’s lips thinned, “Yeah thanks. I’ve always wanted to be.”

“Really?”

He smiled, “History.”

“Boring, old man.” He said haughtily, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

“Ya know, you remind me of Napoleon.” Duff mused, “A short, feisty, little ginger.” Then he was taking off, laughing like mad while a flushed Axl tried to catch up with him.

“Well at least he won like, fifty something battles.” He called, trying to catch his breath through his giggles.

"That's cause short people are super aggressive, Napoleon Complex." Duff teased, whirling to look at him while somehow still managing to skate fucking _backwards,_  looking elegant as all hell to top it all off. “Oh, so you _do_ know your History.”

Axl narrowed his eyes, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “I’m banishing you first for all that showing off you’re doing.”

“You gotta actually _catch_ me though.”

Oh it was so on.

He didn’t _actually_ catch him, but he came close enough to grasp his jacket (he had a feeling Duff was just allowing him to), and of course, just because the universe hated him, he managed to get distracted by a puppy (well, in his defense it was a very cute puppy) and somehow, once again, ended up on his knees, giggling the whole way down.

“Aw Christ, Red.” Duff said, circling back to check on him. “How’d you manage to fall, there’s nothing here for you to bump into.”

“It’s a gift.” He choked out, allowing Duff to pull him up (and falling really wasn’t so bad since he got to be pressed against the blonde—if only for a while). “This is _not_ what I had in mind when I considered getting on my knees for you.” Axl grumbled under his breath, brushing at the dirt on his jeans. He froze when he felt Duff’s eyes on him, coloring rapidly he cleared his throat. “I uh… you heard that?”

The blonde nodded, biting at the inside of his mouth to keep his laughter in check.

“Uhm…oops?” If only the ground would swallow him where he stood.

“Yeah, oops.”

They both erupted into laughter, earning the puzzled glances of well… everybody else. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“Well, I’m not exactly _complaining_ or anything…” Duff reminded him, and Axl just had to give him a little shove for that.

“We’ll see about that, let’s go eat.”

Axl tucked into his burger carefully while listening to Duff recount fascinating tales about Rome. He split his attention between listening to the blonde’s comforting voice and deciding just how much to eat. Duff watched him chew carefully, noticed he was trying to match his pace. He decided not to comment on it.

“So basically,” Axl interjected, “it was like playing ‘the floor is lava’ with a whole city?”

Duff laughed, “Yeah, kinda. Except, ya know, you actually die.”

The redhead snorted, taking another bite of his food. “Vesuvius wasn’t playing any games.”

“Sure as hell wasn’t.” The blonde stared at him for a while, “What about you, any subjects you were obsessed with in school?”

Axl lowered his burger, voice small and hesitant. “Hmm, I guess l liked Literature.” For however long he got to do it. What was it, a year or two? It would’ve been quite nice to make it to senior year and actually graduate. It wasn't feasible at the time, sadly.

“Shakespeare?”

The redhead made a rude gesture, earning a smothered giggle from Duff and a disapproving look from an elderly lady. “ _Overrated_.”

“Dickens?”

Axl pulled a face, “He’s okay. I really like this Harper Lee book we did back in eighth grade. _To Kill a Mockingbird?_ "

Duff’s whole face lit up, “Atticus Finch is the man.” They hung out a while, talking about it, If Axl’s Literature teacher saw him casually having a conversation about the book (and enjoying it), she would scream something along the lines of ‘Impostor!’ then black the fuck out—wild horses couldn't have dragged him to Ms. Bailey's class, he read it on his own time while curled up in bed back home, it was something of an escape.

Duff’s long legs were brushing against his beneath the table, his voice washing over the redhead in waves; he felt the urge to _touch_. Wanted to sneak his hand under the table and press his fingers reverently against the skin exposed through the rips in his pants. Wanted to slide out of the booth and relocate to Duff’s side, rest his head on his chest and _feel_ him talk for a few minutes, hours, years maybe.

Axl dismissed the thought, swallowed and looked away. It was too much.

He wanted too much. And that was never a good thing. It always came back to bite him in the ass, like before.

They’re walking back to Duff’s car after Axl had flipped off the skating rink (much to Duff’s amusement) when Axl suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to touch resurface. The blond was quietly walking next to him, so close his knuckles brushed against Axl’s every now and then, sending little jolts of…something… through him. His hair was wild from the wind, cheeks faintly flushed from all the romping they did earlier.

“So…” Duff spoke up after he had started the car. “Where am I taking you?”

 _Your place._ Axl coughed, “Yeah… um, Mich’s is fine.” He shrugged weakly, “I’m still parked there.”

Duff gave him a long look, almost as if he could see right through Axl’s ruse. Axl deflated with relief when “Ok. You’re on DJ duty.” Was all he said.

The drive went much faster when you want it to last forever and soon enough, Duff was bidding him goodnight. “I had a great time.”

“Not as great as those people in Pompeii but…” He joked weakly, mentally berating himself. Great, could he possibly be more awkward? He quickly retracted the question, not wanting to jinx himself. Surprisingly, Duff’s soft chuckle sounded sincere enough.

"Nothing can top that.”

Axl smiled, eyes flickering to Duff’s lips. “Mhmm… well, text me when you’re home.” And he’s stepping out of the car, groaning before he even closed the door properly. Izzy would have been ribbing him endlessly to pass up such an opportunity.

“Great.” He could just imagine animated crabs urging him to ‘Kiss the boy’, and giggled despite himself. He’s almost at the door when he heard Duff’s voice calling his name. Axl turned to see the blonde striding towards him with a determined look on his face.

“You left something.” The redhead is still trying to figure out just what he could have left behind when Duff  ducked down and pulled him into a kiss.

_Oh._

_That._

Maybe he should keep it short, since he was in public and all.

Axl relaxed and gave himself over to it, because thank fuck _someone_ between them has a pair. It was just what he imagined it would be, soft, gentle, and he found himself clutching at Duff’s jacket, parting his lips for Duff’s hot tongue. Duff… takes. And that leaves what’s left of Axl’s brain wondering if he’s this dominating in bed because he could get behind that (his dick could too, if its current activities were any indication). Duff devoured every breathy sound that forced their way from him, pressing him against the wall of the building. Axl can’t pinpoint exactly when something so… gentle turned into something else entirely, but he knows damn well he encouraged it. Somewhere between being caught between a wall and well, Duff, he had lost himself.

The blonde pulled away to catch his breath (only because he _had_ to), chuckling softly when Axl whined, buried his hand in his hair and pulled him forward— who was he to deny Axl? The redhead makes a happy little sound into Duff’s mouth when he acquiesced, the blonde couldn’t resist huffing a little laugh while he still had the mind to.

Axl moaned softly when Duff slipped a knee between his legs, and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking forward if he tried—not that he was trying. The redhead abandoned all sense of decency (not that he had much of that), fuck that and anyone who wanted to stand and stare, and tried to pull himself upwards by his grip on Duff’s shoulder—because just why the fuck was he so tall? It was difficult to even reach—

His thoughts stopped right around the time Duff grabbed his waist and just _lifted_ him like he weighed nothing. Axl yelped (in a totally manly way, thank you) and wrapped his legs around Duff’s waist. “Oh Jesus fuck _yes_.” He said, wholeheartedly. Because he’s totally imagining how Duff could manhandle him into _any_ position he wants, and how he could probably fuck him against the wall and—

The blonde knew just what he was thinking if his laughter was anything to go by, “Hey,” He peppered kisses down the line of Axl’s exposed neck and the redhead doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his gasps as anything else. “Is this a bad time to ask if you’d be willing to come ho—“

“Axl? Is that you?” Someone called, cutting Duff off.

The loud voice startled them both, and Duff gently allowed Axl to fall to his feet , though the redhead protested. Axl blinked, suddenly dragged back to earth. Who the fuck had the nerve to interrupt his very important conversation with his date?

“Oh is this Michael?” Tracii chirped, starting forward just to have Lemmy pull him back by the collar. “Hi Michael.”

Oh of course. _Tracii_.

Duff pressed a final kiss on Axl’s lips, before pulling a safe distance away. “Hello.” He said, equal parts confused and amused. “Friend of yours?”

Axl growled, narrowing his eyes. “Foe. Definitely foe.”

“Oh relax, you can continue at home for sure.” Tracii waved his hand dismissively, ignoring Lemmy groaning into his palm while muttering something about ‘embarrassment’. “I’m Tracii, this is Lemmy, Steven is inside.” Axl realized his words were slurring, oh god, if _sober_ Tracii was trouble what was _tipsy_ Tracii capable of?

“Hey,” Duff cleared his throat, still not stepping too far away from the redhead. “You already know who I am.” Driving home with a boner was no fun, but if Axl came too…

Axl was resting against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, murmuring to himself. If he ignored it, it wasn’t happening. “Why are you even here?”

“Steven wanted to dance.” Lemmy answered, still holding Tracii, preventing him from stepping any closer. “Nice to meet you, sorry about him. We’ll be on our way.” And with that he was tugging the brunette away, but that wasn’t stopping Tracii.

“He’s totally as hot as you said he was!” Tracii yelled, turning a few heads. “Oh my god! You have my permission to fuck—” the door slammed, cutting  him off. Axl thanked the gods for Lemmy.

“Well… that was… uhm..” Duff chuckled, “He… she? She seems nice.”

“ _He’s_ a pain in my fucking ass, that’s what.” Axl snapped, finally forcing himself to look at Duff. Fuck, he should really buy some pants that weren’t so fucking constricting.

“I hope you didn’t mean that literally.” He deadpanned, face blank.

“No I…” Axl paused, peering at his face before giggling. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m _sure_ you do.” Duff said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, the way you practically _climbed_ me a few seconds earlier—“

“Oh my God.” Axl groaned, “Please, get lost.” The redhead can’t even remember what Duff was asking him before. It sounded important.

“Ok, fine.” Duff mussed up his hair, just for the fun of it and to watch the redhead glare up at him with those luminous blue-green eyes. “I’ll call you.”

“Please don’t.” He said, because teasing was the way he showed affection, because he knew Duff could take it. “Drive safe.”

Soon, he was alone leaning against the wall and wondering if there were any laws against driving home with his zipper down.

\-------------

Izzy visited him again tonight, at the exact same place. “Wow do you love this place or what? You got a thing for trains?” Axl was surprised by the sound of his own voice, too loud for the scenery _.  Oh, so the dream rules have changed, huh?_

“It’s _your_ head kiddo, not mine.” Izzy somehow managed to fill his words with amusement, though there was no noticeable change in what Axl could see of his face.

“Oh so _now_ I can talk?” Axl said, just for the sake of saying something.

“If you started last time, you wouldn’t shut up.” Izzy turned to look at him now, and Axl heart sang for it. He was, however, disappointed that all he could see was his distorted reflection in the lens of his aviators.

“You have a point, Gyp.”

“Don’t call me that.” The brunette said mildly, brows drawn together. “You know I hate it.”

“Yeah, that’s why I did it.” It was a little chilly, and Axl felt himself shiver. The sun wasn’t as bright as last time, he didn’t understand. And he sure as fuck didn’t like the change.

Izzy hummed, reaching out to touch Axl’s hair. “You look happy.”

The redhead sighed and leaned into his touch. “Yeah, I had a date.”

“That wasn’t _all_ you had.” He said, voice flat, but he was smiling, and how Axl missed it. It was exactly like he remembered, of course it was, it was his fucking head.

“You’re one to talk.” Axl joked, trying to reach for him, only to find he couldn’t fucking move. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”

Izzy laughed and Axl almost started sobbing out of sheer happiness. “It’s always something.” He echoed, taking a long drag on his cigarette that seemed to never burn any lower.

“How are you, Izzy?” Axl asked, “ _See_ anything interesting lately?” The redhead knew he was pushing his luck, but he hated not being able to do something. What would he even do? Hug him, maybe. Nothing more.

“You think yer so fucking _funny_ , don’t ya?” Izzy growled through his thickening accent, rising to his feet. He walked towards where Axl was sitting, white-knuckling his cane though his steps were sure. “I have half a mind to break this over yer head.”

“Spank me, daddy.” Axl deadpanned, and that just set them both off. Izzy’s laughter was soft and low, it made Axl feel warm, and somehow he knew he was crying, could feel the tears slipping down his face. God, maybe he shouldn’t have left. LA wasn’t any better.

“Don’t say that.” Izzy said, softly, lowering himself next to Axl. The redhead wanted to point out that he didn’t say shit, but one look at Izzy’s face stopped him. “It was for the best, you hated it here.”

“I didn’t hate you, or Amy, or Stu.” He pointed out, looking down at his sneakers.

“You’re doing this for them. Don’t worry about me.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but don’t worry about that either.” Izzy turned his head towards the train tracks, seemingly listening intently. “The train’s coming. I came to warn you, you did something stupid today.”

“Is this about Michael?” Axl’s heart thumped in his chest. The tracks weren’t used anymore, not since any of them had been born anyway. It was abandoned, and no one came here, except well… them and adventurous teenagers chasing their first high. “There’s no train, Izzy.” He added, trying to reassure himself.

“No, no Michael is fine.” Izzy smiled, but it faded quickly. The redhead wished he could see his eyes. If only for comfort and nothing else. “Think. Because I can’t tell you. You forgot to do something.”

“Uhm…” Axl’s mind scrambled for an answer. He went back to his usual motel, had a shower, jerked off—he flushed at that, because Izzy could hear him. The brunette didn’t seem fazed—and went straight to bed. “Izzy, I don’t…”

“ _Think_ , Angel.” Izzy urged, “I don’t have much time. The train…” He glanced to the east again, brows furrowed in concentration.

Axl racked his brain, retracing his steps. Before the motel? He got in his car, counted his money (he did it, every week, to check how much closer he was to his goal), he sealed the envelope and—

“ _Yes_ , good.” Izzy interjected. “Now what didn’t you do, something you always did. Jesus Christ Axl, even a blind man could see it.”

Axl’s bark of laughter was short lived, because now he remembered. He didn’t bring it inside… He always did, normally, he wasn’t stupid. Who was dumb enough to leave that much something so important in a car without even a fucking alarm? The redhead’s stomach dropped… “Oh God…”

“Train’s here.” Izzy sprung to his feet and walked a ways up the platform. Axl found pulled himself from the ledge, even thought this whole thing was bullshit and there was no fucking train, he would have heard it by now—

A rusted, metal abomination rounded the corner, bringing with it noise like Axl had never heard, pumping out an impossible amount of steam—did they even fucking make trains like this anymore? He was certain his heart stopped for a few seconds. The screeching of the brakes were what got him the most.

“Be careful, please Izzy!” He yelled, trying to walk towards him, but he couldn’t reach him. He was right there, logically, a few step should have sufficed. Alas, logic had no use here.

“No, _you_ be careful.” Izzy turned to him, frowning. “You _need_ to wake up now. I’m sorry.”

Axl jerked awake, breathing hard, covered in sweat. He wasted no time scrambling from the bed, kicking the thin sheets to the floor, not even bothering to pull on his pants before barreling outside. He was stupid. And he deserved whatever he got. He was so caught up, with everything, he never thought…

Sure enough, his car was gone, and so was any hope he had of saving his siblings, or even himself.

Axl sat outside, head buried in his hand till morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Something was off with Axl, and Aiden noticed it the moment he walked through the door. He could barely keep up with a conversation, he’d stop at random moments and stare at nothing before apologizing and trying to pick up where he left off (and failing horribly more often than not).

“You can’t go up there like that.” She echoed for perhaps the hundredth time, the redhead’s eyes were on her, but she doubted he was really all there. “Axl.”

He blinked, seeing her for perhaps the first time since tonight. “Like what?”

“Half alive.” She sighed, “What’s wrong?” She asked knowing damn well he wouldn’t give her a straight answer, if he bothered to give any at all.

“Nothing.”

 _Yeah. And I’m Abraham Lincoln._ “Axl…”

He wanted to spill, but he was so closed off from everyone he could only manage a wan smile that wavered dangerously on the edge of a grimace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeah, he’d go with that. A heart to heart was the last thing on his mind now that he had no idea where the fuck he was gonna end up tonight, or how’d he’d get Amy outta his predicament. Or where he’d sleep till his next paycheck since the only money he had was the crumpled hundred he had left in his pants last night.

“Suit yourself.” She said, after her eyes had roamed his eyes for almost an age. “Just try to be here for this performance.”

“I’m already—”

Michelle snorted, injecting as much annoyance as she could into it. “You know what I mean.”

Axl swallowed and tried to forget about his problems, if only for the two hours he needed to be on stage.

But why bother? Why bother when everything he worked for was lost? He didn’t even have a reason to be here anymore. He had failed, and one paycheck and some tips wasn’t gonna change that.

\------------------

If Aiden had noticed that Axl hadn’t driven to work, he hadn’t commented on it. It wasn’t his business. If the man wanted to talk, he’d find him and talk. However, when Axl blundered through his performance and sang without even an ounce of emotion, he had to question his earlier decision.

“Why do you think I have Slash’s number?” He hadn’t even decided to look up from the glass he was polishing almost furiously. He didn’t want to look into those eyes and risk drowning in the wells of infinite sadness. He was a coward, but he was ok with that.

“Do you?” Axl really wasn’t in the mood for his teasing.

“Maybe.”

“Stop fucking around, man.” The redhead shifted his weight around feeling way too vulnerable for his liking. He wondered if he stunk of desperation.

Aiden sighed, lowered the glass and looked Axl dead in the eyes. “What’s wrong, Red?”

“Please…”

“Where are you from? Where do you live?” He went on, barely registering Axl’s flinch. “Why do you look so sad? Why the fuck wont you talk.”

“Aiden.” He felt the whole bar could hear the tremble in his voice, foolish, yes, but it made him clam up nonetheless.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” The brunette sighed and braced his hands on the surface of the bar. “Can I ask why?”

Axl cracked a little smile. “You can ask…”

Aiden huffed, rolling his eyes. “Okay fine.”

After a clipped conversation with Slash (which included a lot more probing questions than he’d like), Axl headed to the bus stop with a hurried goodbye to the bartender.

“You’re heading where?” Axl had no idea how Aiden could find the time to fuss and bitch at him when the bar was that busy. Seriously? He more or less just flipped a guy off for interrupting their conversation with his order. How did this bar even make money?

“Bus stop.” That’s about all the answer he would get.

The brunette left it at that. “Okay, please get home safe, it’s dangerous to walk around this late.”

The redhead wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He didn’t bother asking how Aiden knew… “I’ll keep it in mind.”

\-------------

Duff was dancing in the kitchen while attempting to make curried shrimp, which would probably be simple if it were anyone else. Based on Duff’s cooking skills, however, it was a fucking impossible task. it didn’t help that Elvis crooning on the radio was all but compelling him to shake his ass (and that led to him having to throw out the first charred set of shrimps).

His phone rang about halfway into ‘Spanish Eyes’ and he dropped both his fork and towel before rushing to answer it. Probably his mother calling to see just how his ‘cooking’ turned out. Ok, maybe he could bullshit her and tell her it was perfectly fine, but she’d see through him like pantyhose—

“Hello.”

“Mr. McKagan, uh... there’s someone down here for you.” She sounded hesitant to relay this news.

The blonde frowned, “At this time of night?” He hoped it wasn’t one of his father’s ‘surprise visits’ again, because he’d actually rather fucking die. And he wasn’t exaggerating. “Dad?” He didn’t even try to limit the disdain seeping into his tone.

“No… some kid named—” He could hear her mumbling something away from the phone. “—Axl? Should I call security—”

“No don’t.” He blurted, “Will you show him up for me?” There was no way he was going down there in his apron and shorts (he cooked better when he wasn’t held back by too many articles of clothing, ok?). Fuck, he needed to change.  Did he even have the time to?

“No problem.” She still sounded a bit confused, but that was her business. Fuck his hair was still damp from his shower earlier—how did Axl even get his address?

Duff was pulling up a pair of soft sweats when the doorbell rang. He pulled the door opening, already smiling to rival the sun, but it slipped away as quickly as it had arrived. “Axl.”

He looked tired, like he was ready to collapse right at Duff’s bare feet. The mischievous spark in his eyes was all but extinguished; even his hair had lost its shine.

“I’m sorry.” Axl said weakly, and Duff was pulling him inside and thanking Kelly for her kindness before the redhead had even finished. Axl was too drained to resist. He tried talking himself out of coming, but what else could he do? He'd already asked enough of Steven and Tracii, and Michelle hiring him was more than he could ever ask for.

The redhead’s hand was clammy in his grasp; he hadn’t attempted to say anything else “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Axl shrugged, smiling cynically.

“I fucked up. My car got stolen. My money got stolen. My fucking clo—”

“Wait, someone broke in to your house?” The blonde led him to the couch, Axl collapsed immediately. “Are you okay, babe?”

“Robbed my house?” Axl snorted, hesitating for a bit. “They stole my car with everything in it.”

Duff mulled over this for a while, still holding Axl’s hand. “You had all your money in your car?” He frowned, “Why would you do that. And your clothes? Unless...”

Axl laughed, “Bingo.”

“You live, in your car?” He croaked, grip tightening on Axl’s arm. “All this time, you told me to leave you at Michelle’s, you just… slept in the car?” It really was glaringly obvious, and he cursed himself for not having seen it before.

The redhead pulled his hand away, glancing around the apartment for the first time. He should’ve known since Slash gave him the address that this place would be upscale. He felt even more out of place. “Yeah, well. We can’t all have apartments like this.” A low blow maybe, but he was tired and embarrassed and frustrated as all hell. He didn’t need Duff’s pity right now. Fuck, he didn’t even know what he needed. Why did he come? “So yeah, I slept in the car, unless I had enough money for a motel.”

“Babe. Why didn’t you…” The blonde huffed, springing to his feet and pacing before the couch. “That’s not safe. Were you inside the car when… did they _touch_ you?” Axl was surprised Duff hadn’t even made mention of the barb aimed at him. Concern wasn’t something he was used to.

“Well, no. I was in a motel and—”

“Thank god.” Duff knelt before Axl, pulling him into a warm embrace. “You should have told me earlier, I wouldn’t have…

“Have what?” His voice was muffled in the fabric of Duff’s shirt, he felt both vulnerable and safe in his embrace.

“I wouldn’t have let you go.” He said, tone so sincere Axl had to pull away and seek out his eyes.

“Michael, I’m sorry I just didn’t want to bother—” Axl paused, tilting his head and sniffing the air. “Is something… on fire?” It was almost comical how quickly Duff scrambled to his feet and stumbled off to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath the whole time.

Fuck. There goes his dinner. The blonde wrinkled his nose at the burnt mess in the pot, couching a bit and fanning smoke away from his face. “Oh God, mom was right.”

Axl padded up behind him silently, causing Duff to jump about a feet into the air when he finally spoke. “Jesus, Blondie. Your cooking skills are whack.”

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“The living room.” The redhead replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “Want help with that?”

“What?” Duff glanced at his ‘shrimp’ then back at Axl. “You want to eat this?”

“God, no.” Axl chuckled for the first time that evening. “I’m offering my services, I’m quite a good cook.”

“Please, you don’t have to, I mean you’re a gue—”

“Too bad, I want to. Just show me where everything is.” It was quite a fancy kitchen, all stainless steel appliances and marble surfaces, but he could manage. A kitchen was a kitchen, right? “Such a big kitchen for someone who can’t cook.” He was happy for the distraction from whatever the hell that had been earlier.

“Yeah, well, now that you’re here, you can teach me.” Duff watched him move around the kitchen with ease, plucking various ingredients from the fridge, probably deciding on a recipe.

The redhead paused, eyes fixed on the sweet pepper in his hand. “Uhm… I’m not—a”

“You’re staying.” Duff said, swiping an apple from the fridge and leaning against the island, giving Axl as much space as he wanted. His tone left no room for argument. “At least until you get an apartment.” He really was dying to know what the whole deal was, but he doubted Axl wanted to discuss that in his current state.

“Mike…” The redhead begun, but Duff cut him off.

“Did you file a report?”

“Can’t.” Axl grit out, focusing on his activities on the cutting board.

The blonde took a deep breath, “Why can’t you?”

“Not my car.” He said dryly, glad he had an excuse to avoid Duff’s gaze, though he could still feel it on him.

“Ok.” And he totally wanted to ask if he stole it, but he’d leave that for another time. “How much money did you lose.”

There was a break in Axl’s dicing, before the sound of the knife hitting wood started again.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Duff almost thought he wouldn’t answer until he said in a small voice, “A couple thousand.”

“Jesus.” Duff’s gut twisted. He already knew what that money was for and why Axl hadn’t mentioned his situation, but he asked anyway. “Why did you…?”

“I was saving; I almost had enough to rent somewhere.” Axl chuckled darkly. “Nowhere like this, “He waved the knife around in a way that indicated he was definitely talking about Duff’s setup. “But, it’s somewhere to sleep. A roof over our heads.” The landlord required one month in advance, one more week of work would have gotten him there, with enough left over for food.

“Our?”

“Yes, my brother and sister.” Duff was preparing to ask about that but Axl stopped him. “Can this wait till dinner?”

They didn’t discuss it over dinner, Duff was too busy stuffing his face, because shit, Axl wasn’t lying about being good at cooking, and the redhead seemed perfectly content to watch him eat with a little smile glued to his face.

“Can I marry you right now or what?” He asked, sighing happily and rubbing his belly.

Axl snorted softly, “Not till I see a ring, you can’t.”

“How demanding.”

“Learned from the best, Mr. You’re-staying-here.” Duff had no problem with Axl teasing him like this, not when it finally got the man laughing again.

“Fair enough.”

\-------------

The piercing sound of the phone pulled him from his dreams and he came cursing and grumbling the whole way. It was dark, but then again it was always dark in his world. He groped around on his bedside table till his hand snagged on the wire almost sending the whole thing clattering to the ground. This had better be good.

“What.” He snapped, not even bothering to sit up. His internal clock told him it was something after three, he’d need his phone to confirm it though. He really couldn’t be bothered.

“Still a dick I see.” The voice whispered, and Izzy could almost feel the laughter all the way over the line.

The sleep clinging to him was released its grip. “Axl? I don’t fucking believe it.”

“Har-di-har. How’s it going?”

“How do you think?” He shifted beneath the sheets, suddenly feeling warm. Only this fucking redhead could have this effect on him.

“Hm…I think you’re still a grumpy little troll.” Axl snorted. “You know, the one that lives under the bridge?”

“At least he isn’t blind.” And yeah, that came out bitter and cutting like everything with him usually is, and he immediately regretted saying it. “Forget it.”

“Izzy…” Axl paused. “Shut up. The troll isn’t as hot as you are. You’re a babe Jeff.”

He smirked into the darkness, curling around a pillow. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m trustworthy.” Axl giggled. “I don’t kiss ugly boys.”

That statement startled a laugh out of Izzy that he quickly smothered. No need to wake the whole house. “What do you need, Angel?” He could almost hear Axl over thinking already. “Relax, just tell me.”

“I’m gonna ask something stupid, but I’m desperate Jeff.”

He pulled himself upright, blinking rapidly. “Axl. Axl what happened?” He could hear he heart hammering away in his chest. Fucking hell, he’s never there to protect him. Not that he’d be much use anyway.

“Shush. I’m fine.” Axl huffed softly, “I’m wondering if you’re free this weekend?”

Izzy was thrown by the change of topic. “Why?”

“Can you just… pick up Amy and Stu for me? Bring them here?”

Silence.

“Axl…”

“Izzy they can’t fucking stay there.” He barked, “I know it’s a lot but please, just get them out. With each passing day I talk to them it gets worse and I can’t...” His voice gave way and Izzy knew he was crying,

“Ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see what I can do.” He took a deep breath. God he was dropping everything for this fucker again, even though he promised himself he’d stay here in Lafayette, out of trouble, out of the real world. One phone call and a few sobs later and he was already mentally going through the stuff he’d need to pack.

“God, thank you. You have no idea… Christ, Izzy. The things you do for me.” Axl’s voice was raw with emotion, and the brunette held the phone away from him, swallowing hard. “For someone you haven’t even…” Seen. For someone he had never laid eyes on.

“I’ve seen you alright.” He smiled softly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay in touch.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me till I’m there.”

God, Sonja was gonna kick his ass when he shared the news about this little "trip". He briefly wondered if this could be considered kidnapping.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s/o to espea on her birthday! :D *crowb bursts into applause*  
> Girl, eat cake and rock out. Have a nice day. I hope this chapter cheered you up.. or something. xD


	8. Chapter 8

Axl didn’t consider it his fault that the boy was always sitting outside the library. The library he had to pass while walking home from church (which was usually his punishment). It also wasn’t his fault that he was usually in a very _very_ bad mood on his walk back home—being told to walk home for some offence or another while your family was loaded into the car and driven home, knowing damn well you had more punishment to come once you completed the walk—he considered those reasons enough to put anyone in a bad mood.

So yeah, irrational or no, seeing the little brunette sitting in the faint sunlight without a care woke something dark and ugly inside him. Axl sometimes paused beneath the large pine tree, the scratchy bark against his skin an irritating distraction, he watched the boy who always seemed untouchable. Somehow apart from everything else, he didn’t fit into the scenery. Lafayette was dull, a ghost of what it had once been in perhaps the fifties, something his mother always talked about. The night life, the dances, the bands, the movies, just all round joy. All Axl saw it as at eight years old was a modern day ghost town. Faded and dying, like everyone in it. Like his mom, like their neighbors, like their aged congregation (but never Stephen, no matter how he prayed for that).

The boy was different, Axl just knew he was. He stood out among all the other children, not by what he did, but more by what he was. He sat there daily, Axl saw him every time he walked and sometimes when he rode with the family. The boy was never surrounded by other children, and Axl can’t remember ever seeing him talk, but he was interesting just the same. He always had a book on his lap, always curled over it like he wanted to force his way into whatever world he was reading about (and Axl understood that all too well), his hands moved over the pages, tracing something, Axl couldn’t see from where he stood and was always too shy to approach him.

He did the logical thing. He threw pinecones at the boy. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention.

The first time he did it, it hit the brunette square in the chest and Axl ducked behind the tree, waiting to see what the boy would do. To his surprise, the kid blinked rapidly, glanced down at where the pinecone lay on his open book then cocked his head, listening intently.

Axl ran away.

The second time, the boy frowned and brushed it from his book in a swift movement and continued frowning until Axl left.

It was almost two weeks after it started when the boy finally acknowledged him. Axl had squatted down, searching for a suitable projectile to throw when the boy spoke.

“Why do you keep throwing things at me?”

Axl’s head snapped up, a little smile playing at his lips. “Oh, so you _can_ talk?”

“Well, yes. You thought I couldn’t?” The boy asked, sounding a lot calmer than Axl expected him to be. (Looking back, that whole sentence was a bit amusing. Izzy seemed so offended Axl thought he was mute, even though he couldn’t see for shit.)

“Well you’ve never said anything to me before.” The pinecone was long forgotten, he abandoned his search, edging closer to the boy as the conversation dragged on.

“That’s because I’ve never noticed you before. You’re not from my class.” The boy pointed out, eyes seemingly tracking Axl as he moved closer. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting next to you.” To this day he couldn’t understand why he chose to. But it was too late, he sat beside the boy, observing him quietly. He had the most beautiful eyes, the color of the sky before a storm. He had always liked storms. The noise drowned out lots of things, the thuds from his parents’ room, the soft sounds of Sharon crying, his own thoughts…

“Why?” The boy blinked, but Axl got the idea it was just reflex, mostly because even though the boy was facing him. He wasn’t _really_ seeing him.

“Because I want to.” He shot back, shrugging. “You’re always bent over your books, not with the other children. What are you reading?” He peered into the boy’s lap, momentarily confused when met with a blank page. Well… closer inspection revealed little bump-like things on the page. Weird.

“The Chronicles of Narnia.” The boy still sounded a bit puzzled, like he couldn’t believe this conversation was happening. Axl smiled.

“Oh. That’s a good one.” He had seen the movie, he hated it. But somehow he felt the boy would be more impressed if he hadn’t said that.

Why he was trying to impress the boy in the first place was a whole different kettle of fish.

“You’ve read it? Do you like Aslan?”

“Well he’s a lion, ain’t he? So he’s cool. And strong.” Axl wished he was strong like that, he could change a lot of things. He could save his mother and his siblings. He could carry them out of this place.

They sat in silence for a while, Axl swung his feet and stared down at the grass while the boy frowned at him.

“My name’s Jeffrey, Jeffrey Dean Isbell.” He drawled, lips curving in a sweet smile.

“I’m William Rose, but people call me Axl because of my dad. He’s not from around here, he-” He forced himself to stop babbling, because it was the polite thing to do. “I’m eight.” He tacked on, playing with his too-long sleeves.

“Me too.”

The redhead nodded as if such a thing was to be expected. “Are you blind?”

“Yes.” He sounded unsure, like this whole thing might be some prank and everyone was blind after all. “At least I think so. My mom says I am.”

 Sight, Axl would later find, was a strange topic for Izzy. He always seemed awed when Axl explained certain things to him, sunsets, trees, snow ( _“And people see them? Colors? I don’t get it, how can both the clouds and snow be the same color? Does that mean the clouds are cold? What do you mean your hair is red? Like fire?—” then he would reach up and touch Axl’s hair “—then why isn’t it hot? Sighted people are weird._ ”)

Axl thought that was a good enough answer. “Why?” He was still staring at Izzy’s eyes, watching him blink. “How come you blink then?” (Dumb question yes, but he was eight.)

“I was born like that, and I blink because it’s _involuntary_.”Axl could tell the brunette had no idea what the word meant, but he was kind enough to ignore it. Jeffrey went back to tracing the strange marks with his fingers, smiling faintly.  “I’m guessing you can see? You have a pretty good aim.”

The redhead’s laughter surprised them both. “Thank you. Yes I can. I’m sorry about that by the way.” They sat there exchanging bits of information they thought the other should know. Till the sun began to set and a slender lady who looked a lot like Jeffrey came outside.

“Hello.” She glanced from Axl to Jeffrey. “You’ve made a friend Jeffrey?”

“I don’t know.” The brunette turned towards the lady, still sporting that little smile. “He threw pine-cones at me.” Axl felt his cheeks heat up, he wanted to protest, but he couldn’t. It was true after all.

The lady laughed, pressing her palm over her lips to stifle the sound. “Oh I see. Well, it’s time to go Izzy, tell your friend goodbye.”

Axl ran off without waiting to see what would happen. He was late enough as is. Stephen wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t care, he’d found someone _interesting_ , and he wouldn’t stop until he knew everything about Jeffrey. Stephen didn’t approve of him hanging around the ‘disabled kid’, but Sharon silently encouraged it. As far as she was concerned, Axl could talk to whoever he wanted to and there was not a damn thing Stephen could do about it (except he could, tried to trap him with ridiculous  chores, stuck him with the kids, threatened him when all else failed).

He spent all of his life doing just that—had even more time to when Jeffrey was placed in the same class with him (which was a lot more work than it sounded, all their textbooks had to be translated, and Jeffrey had to work twice as hard, especially when submitting essays). Jeffrey became Izzy and Izzy became his everything, anyone who had anything to say about that had to get through Axl (and they really couldn’t, because the redhead fought like someone possessed).

“What do you mean your hair is red?” Izzy asked for perhaps the third time, legs folded under him, peering at Axl through his aviators (Axl hated those damn glasses).

“I mean,” The redhead huffed, scratching his head as he tried to come up with a suitable explanation. “It’s like… red. Like fire, or… a rose.” This was all futile of course; Izzy had never seen a rose. “Think of… heat. Hot things are red.”

“Are you trying to get me to admit you’re hot?” The brunette deadpanned, wrinkling his nose when Axl made a grab for his glasses.

“I _am_ hot.” Well, people in school told him that, stared at him like he looked good enough to eat. Axl got the message, he was fifteen, it was blinking at him in neon lights. He just didn’t care.

“Hmm…not so sure about that.” Izzy teased, allowing Axl to pull his glasses off. “Why’re you so obsessed with my eyes, Red? They’re useless.” He was making that face again, the one he made when he was trying to figure something complicated out.

“They’re _beautiful_.” Axl insisted, brushing locks of his curly hair from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Izzy pulled away, lips turned down at the corners.  “That means different things to both of us. You don’t have to lie to me to make me like you.”

“What do you mean—”

“I don’t get why you’re here with me.” Izzy’s voice trembled, he curled in on himself, blocking Axl out. The redhead hated that, Izzy was already closed off, but there were times when he went away completely.“I’ve heard them talk about you. About how beautiful you are, how your eyes are like the sea, how your skin in ivory and how you’re perfect in every way. I hear them ask why you hang out with me. I’m bland. I know. I’ve never seen the sea, but I imagine it’s beautiful. Like you’re beautiful. Like I’m not.”

Axl’s heart broke a little bit, he was never good with words, he had no way to make Izzy understand—not yet anyway. “Izzy. I think you’re _beautiful_. I always want to be next to you. I love you, I can’t make you understand how much you mean to me.”

Izzy was quiet for a while, “Do you hang out with me, because I can’t see your bruises?”

Axl froze, unable to even breathe properly. “What do you—”

“I know you’re hurt sometimes.” The brunette glanced towards the flood of light coming from his window. He had explained that to Axl once, that he could sense light and the absence of it. That was about all he could ‘see’. “Sometimes when I touch your arm, your breath hitches. Who keeps hurting you, Angel? Do they bully you too?”

Axl didn’t reply, mind still reeling. The conversation died there.

“Are my eyes like the sea?” Izzy asked quietly.

“Like the clouds in a thunderstorm. Like silver,” Axl chuckled weakly. “Maybe even like Ice.”

“All those thing are cold. No one likes those things.” Izzy sighed, reaching for him. The redhead crawled over to him, almost giggling when the brunette’s fingers slipped over his cheekbones and down to his lips. Izzy’s face finally lit up with a smile and Axl’s heart ached.

“I do.”

Izzy allowed him to curl up on his lap and kiss his lips timidly, so Axl guessed that meant he accepted it.

\----------

For such a big man, Duff moved like the wind. If it weren’t for the soft “Aren’t you going to bed?” behind him, Axl would have carried on his daydreaming.

“Yeah, I just had to make a call.” Even after a shower and change of clothes, Axl felt restless. Duff had shown him to one of the many guestrooms which was larger than anywhere Axl had ever lived at any point in his life. He had stood in the centre of the room for a few minutes before doubling back and sitting in the living room, carefully deliberating before making the call.

“Are you alright?” The blonde shifted his weight around, hair messy from his nap.

“ _No_.” Axl choked out, scarcely allowing the words to leave his mouth before biting into his lip harshly. “I’m sorry, ignore that—”

“Would you like to sleep with me?” Duff asked, chuckling when Axl quirked a brow. “Just sleep, babe. I’m too tired to do anything but.” Which was utter bullshit of course, but he felt he had to say it.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for the bother. Your room is too… big.” He could feel himself blushing, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“It’s fine.” He said softly, “You can come to bed when you want.” Duff left Axl standing in the middle of the room and wondering why the hell the blonde trusted him this much. There were at least a million valuable things in here, if he wanted to, he could have stuffed half this shit somewhere and walked out.

Weirdo.

The redhead grinned, following Duff in the direction of his room. He couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but that shock of golden hair he could spot anywhere. Axl gently closed the door, tiptoeing towards the bed, probably custom, judging by the size of it. The redhead perched at the edge of the bed, feeling a bit flustered.

Odd coming from someone who had had more one night stands than he could count.

Duff stirred, throwing the covers back. “You gonna stare at me all night?”

“Maybe.” Axl snorted, but slipped beneath them anyways. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Duff giggled, shifting closer. “Come here often?”

Axl had to sock him for that one. “Go to bed.” The blonde was surprisingly good at taking orders, because his breathing evened out a while later. Axl tossed around for a bit, ultimately deciding he was more comfortable pressed against Duff.

He dreamt of thunderstorms, the calming sound of the rain against his roof, the smell of the earth after a particularly heavy shower—but somewhere during the storm, the sun came out, rays of light piercing the stormy sky, making the raindrops glisten.

Axl smiled.

\------

Duff was very aware of something soft and nice-smelling draped over him. It was probably a dream or something, that was his first thought, but then the thing huffed sleepily and tightened its grip, warm breath washing over his collar bone.

Oh yeah.

He hadn't sleep alone in usual Duff fashion last night.

The blonde shifted, suddenly realizing Axl was clinging to him like a teddy bear. He chuckled softly and tried to pull away. The redhead threw a leg over him to keep him in place. He grinned, trying to untangle himself some other way without waking the redhead.

"Please stop moving.” Axl mumbled, voice scratchy from sleep. "You're like a human heater.” the redhead squeezed him tighter, smiling against his skin.

"I'm glad I could be of service.” It was already eight, for the first time in his life he had overslept. That might have something to do with sleeping so well he didn't want to leave his bed. "But I have work and stuff."

Axl was way too tired to make sense of that sentence. "Why are you still trying to move?"

Duff laughed, "Work, babe. We can't all work the night shift like you. "

Axl grumbled, but relaxed his grip, snorting when Duff cuffed him gently. "I'm sorry princesses. But I'll be back, I promise. "

The redhead stretched languidly, then ducked beneath the covers, red hair and all disappearing in a flash. Duff counted that as a win. It took Axl another ten minutes to come to; this time of morning was still strange to him. Apparently 8 a.m existed and was not something people made up to scare each other.

Grumbling irritably, he dragged himself towards what he assumed was the bathroom, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. It took him another five minutes to notice the water was running.

Oops.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Duff teased.

"Do you usually take this long in the shower while late?" Axl shot back, wrinkling his nose at the taste of the toothpaste. "Pretty sure you’ve been in here for like fifteen minutes." The smell of Duff's body wash had Axl silently planning to make not of its name later. He probably couldn't afford it but a boy could dream.

Duff cleared his throat. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The redhead grinned at his reflection, ducking to rinse his mouth. "Make it more obvious, why don't you?"

"Shut up.” the blonde grumbled, "Pass me a towel."

Axl obliged, enjoying just how natural it felt to be here. The water was hot against his skin and he briefly wondered how long it had been since he had hot water.

"Why are you smiling while washing your face?"

Axl froze, lashes weighed down by droplets of water. Duff was right behind him, smelling heavenly, and grinning like mad with nothing but a towel on.

He was ashamed it took him about half a minute to formulate a reply. "I really like water?"

Duff quirked a brow, nudging Axl to the side to stand at the sink—even though there was a free one next to him. "Weirdo."

Usually he'd have a counter, but maybe he was a bit distracted by the damp brush of Duff's heated skin against his. Just maybe.

Axl brushed his fingers against the blonde's hip, smirking when he faltered for a second. "So uhm... Just how much time do you have to get ready?"

He was hardly breathing. He didn't have the time, lots of people would be very mad. But then Axl was peering at him with the bluest of eyes, biting his lip. "Maybe a few minutes, why?"

Axl rolled his eyes even as he pressed himself against Duff's side, longing to bury his face in his damp golden hair but unsure if such a thing would be accepted. "I reckon I could help you out. Ya know, stress relief. For science."

"Are you propositioning me Mr. Rose?"

"Need me to spell it out for ya?"

"I need you to translate from Midwest-speak." He strolled from the bathroom, clutching his towel with all the dignity he could muster.

The redhead snorted, following closely behind him. He tanned well. Unlike Axl. "OK. Can I suck your cock?"

Duff sucked in a sharp breath, whirling to search Axl's open gaze for answers. "Well, when you put it _that_ nicely..." He caught himself at the last minute, grinning suddenly. "I mean, _can_ you?"

Axl was laughing for real now, clinging to the wall for support. "OK, I'm sorry sir. _May_ I suck your cock?"

The blonde hesitated, eyes darting around the room. "If you want to— I mean, that'd be great and all, but not if you're doing it because you think you have to. Or that it's some kind of payment —"

Axl raised his hand to stop him. “It’s not like that. I know I could never pay you back and sure I want to—" He was planning to, just not like this. Maybe he would help Duff out with something in the future, whatever it was, he owed him one. "—but not with sex, man. I'm not the type of— just, no." He took a deep breath. "I actually want to, _badly_." 

Duff bit his lip, searching Axl’s eyes, finding only desire buried in their depths.

 _Oh, Christ_. "Yeah, that's. Yeah."

"Good." He said softly, then reached up to pull Duff into a kiss.

Whatever he had been expecting, it sure wasn’t this. The hesitance he had shown that night was nowhere to be seen, and Duff wondered fleetingly what else he could expect. The redhead nipped at his lower lip playfully, sighed happily and tangled his fingers in his hair. “You ok, Blondie? Am I scaring ya?”

Duff nodded, laughing softly. “More than ok.” His laughter quickly morphed into a moan when Axl began sucking at the sensitive skin of his neck, breath warm against him. The warm thrum of arousal strengthened as Axl’s hands slid over his skin, skilled fingers flicking his nipples—fuck how could he even split his attention like that? Duff’s mind was struggling to keep up with all the sensations, he really should be doing more than fisting the soft material of Axl’s tee.

The redhead slipped fluidly to his knees, eager fingers divesting Duff of his towel and discarding it somewhere at his feet. It really was doing a poor job of covering anything anyway.

“Well, shit.” Axl murmured, brows almost touching his hairline. He was big, obviously, and not even fully hard yet. He swiped a thumb over the slit, pressing light kisses on his hip.

Duff flushed, stifling a groan when Axl’s hand closed around the heated flesh. “You really don’t have—”

Axl rolled his eyes. “Michael, shut up.”

 And that was the last thing he said for a while, his mouth was otherwise occupied. Duff sighed softly when Axl’s tongue darted out to lap at the head, forcing himself to keep his eyes open—even thought that wasn’t the best of ideas, not with Axl kneeling there, staring up and him with luminous blue eyes as he took inch after inch into his mouth.

He closed his eyes about halfway through when he realized Axl was hell-bent on ruining him faster than the IRS ruined Wesley Snipes. The redhead hummed around his length, fingers pressing against that spot behind his balls, tongue all the while executing tricks Duff couldn’t follow.

“Fuck, Red.” He breathed, stroking Axl’s hair back from his face. “Should’ve known that mouth was good for something.”

Axl pulled off, laughing softly, voice rougher than before. “You’re talking too much.” He murmured, hand slipping up and down Duff’s slick length —twisting just so at the head—with lewd sounds. Axl busied himself with gently tonguing Duff’s swollen balls.

The blonde was using all his willpower to remain standing, grunting and cursing softly at Axl’s ministrations. The redhead took him in once again, tongue working against the underside of his cock, drool dribbling from his lips. The images of his length sliding between Axl’s swollen lips, those damp blue eyes and flushed cheeks proved too much.

He spilled with a low groan, green eyes locked on Axl’s innocent baby-blues, almost laughing when Axl swallowed him down while still somehow looking like the picture of innocence. “Jesus _fucking_ Christ.” It was probably bad that Duff wanted to ruin him in every way possible.

“Just Axl, please.” The redhead teased once he had allowed Duff’s softening length to slip from his lips. Tracii would be proud—he’d definitely call him about that later. “You taste exactly like I imagined.” He breathed, tongue dancing behind his lips, savouring the taste.

The blonde sank to his knees, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. “How—”

Axl nuzzled his neck, feeling warm inside. Or maybe that was just Duff’s jizz. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Let me return the favour.” Duff whispered, laughing when Axl’s eyelids lowered. “Or not.”

“Wake me up with a blowjob, babe.” He muttered, stifling a yawn. “Nine is _still_ too fucking early.”

Duff gathered him easily in his arms and carried the sleepy redhead back to bed.

\------

Axl woke for the second time—Christ, was he exhausted or what—what felt like a day later but couldn't be more than a few hours. Probably almost 11 or something.

God, he really hated mornings.

He pulled on his borrowed sweats that were just a bit baggy and sagged off his slender hips a bit, dragged himself towards the kitchen and promptly froze when he noticed company.

"Oh. Hey. You're awake." Duff greeted him and that brought Slash's eyes to him too

He wasn't even wearing a shirt. His cheeks burned and he folded his arms over his pale chest. What a time to be alive. "Uhm Hello."

The brunette chuckled, stealing Duff's fresh cup of coffee without batting an eye at the blonde's protest. "He's a bit shy, eh? You've got a type Mikey. Come on, don't mind me, want some coffee?"

That was around the time Axl ducked back inside to find a shirt, coffee be damned.

He returned shortly after, still a bit red in the ears and cranky, but his hunger lured him out. "Morning."

"Hey." Slash drained the last of his stolen coffee, lowered the cup and offered him a small smile.

"Morning again." Duff added, rolling his eyes at the curious look Slash gave him.

Slash took in his bed head and deep frown. "Not much of a morning person, huh?"

"Not when I work all night, no. “He groused, digging into his omelet.”This is good."

"Thanks." The blonde lowered his eyes, smiling softly.

" _You_ made this?" Axl asked incredulously, eyes widening. “Holy fucking shit, is the condo still standing?”

"Is that terribly hard to believe?"

Axl let his facial expression speak for him.

"Omelettes are the only thing he can make, you should thank me.”

"I'm not completely terrible." Duff tried, flushing a bit.

"Dude, you ruined ramen." Slash said, chuckling.

"How'd you manage that?" Axl asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"He left it on the stove for too long. Even the pot was beyond saving." Slash snatched half of Duff's sandwich, grinning widely.

"I could have made you some.” the blonde growled, though he made no move to repossess his food.

"Where's the fun in that?" Slash frowned at him, reaching over to run his hands through Duff's messy hair. "You need a haircut." Axl stiffened, lowered his eyes and frowned into his cup.

The blonde sighed, "Yeah. I haven't got the time."

"Look at you, growing out your hair, skipping work. A regular little rebel aren't you?" He twisted in his seat to face Duff, comfortably in his space, maybe without even realizing it.

The blonde flipped his too-long hair over his shoulder.

"It's not a phase mom." He drawled, smacking Slash's hand away. "The company won't collapse without me. I mean, it's not like I did shit there anyway."

"Right." Slash's hand was in his hair again, and Duff sighed softly sinking into his seat. "I'm gonna go, enjoy your day. Though I think you're already doing just that." His fingers grazed the fading mark on Duff's neck.

Axl did his best to keep both hands on his cup at all times. No choking. Choking was bad.

"Later. Bye Axl. "

Then the brunette was gone, leaving behind a considerably more irritated Axl.

"So uhm…” He tried, aiming for casual and not ‘choking on jealousy’. “You and Curly?"

The blonde's head snapped up, "Huh?"

"What's up with that?" He asked, avoiding Duff’s confused gaze.

"Oh." Duff made a face then shook his head. "I guess we were a thing back in college. It was...mostly a misunderstanding I guess? I don't know what it was, but it's over now." Well they didn’t exactly end on the best of terms, but it hadn’t ruined their friendship so…

Axl made a little sound of acknowledgement, feeling a bit foolish.

"Wait... Are you jealous?" Duff perked up, voice wavering on the edge of a laugh.

"Yeah?" Axl drawled, raising a brow. "So what if I was?"

Duff waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, he's crushing on Aiden."

Axl choked on his coffee. "My Aiden?" Why hadn’t noticed that before?

"The little Greek bartender?"  Duff huffed, “Yeah, he won’t stop yapping about him.”

"He's really not _that_ little." He teased, snorting when the blonde shot him a suspicious look.

“Did you two..”

“No.”

Duff raised a brow. “Axl?”

The redhead smiled to himself. “No.”

“I’m not bothered—”

“ _Seriously_? No.” He couldn’t imagine him and Aiden together. Well, yeah, he had seen him naked a few times—he could appreciate beauty—but no fucking way he was sleeping with the man. Aiden was more like a brother than anything…. A brother he had seen naked… multiple times.

Fuck it.

Duff sighed. "Can we continue while watching TV?"

"Yeah, why not."

\--------

Amy almost tripped over herself running to the phone, hoping it was Axl, not wanting to miss the call. "Hello?"

"Amy."

That definitely was not Axl. "Izzy? Is that you? Are you okay? Did something happen to Axl?"

"Calm down, Missy. Nothing's wrong with Axl. Well, except the usual." He paused. "Actually he sent me to get you."

Amy's heart soared. "Oh. Oh OK, he's at your place?"

Izzy snorted. "Yeah. Sure. In LA."

Amy sighed, of course he wasn't. "Izzy. When?" She tried not to sound too desperate, but her shaking voice betrayed her. She clutched the phone in her good hand, hoping he'd come through after the cast came off. She could survive just a few more days.

"Are you free this weekend kid?"

Amy giggled and the cheerful sound startled her. "Boy, am I.”

"Then pack up. You and Stu. As discreetly as possible please. You don't have school so you?"

She hadn't been to school in weeks, actually she had dropped out, but that wasn't anything he needed to know. "I'm free. We both are."

"OK. See ya soon. “Izzy said, and Amy had to giggle at that.”Laugh it up, kid. I'll have my revenge."

The slamming of the heavy oak doors distracted her from her reply. "Amy? Stuart? Am I the only one in this damn house? Is dinner ready?"

She hung up quickly, frightened but not paralysed with fear. That's what got her fucking arm in the cast last time. "I'm home."

"Where else would you be?" Steven lumbered in, boots making a racket on the wooden floors. His uneven gait indicated his inebriated state.

Trouble.

 _Far away from here, hopefully_. "Nowhere." Dead. If she had had half the courage to put his hunting rifle to use.

"You bein’ smart with me?" He asked softly, words tumescent and threatening in the silence between them. He appeared in the arch of the doorway, beefy arms folded over his chest. The strands of his greasy hair remained stock still in the soft breeze from the open windows.

She squeezed her eyes shut, body wracked with tremors. "No sir.” But she wouldn’t show him, he fed on her fear like some kind of sick beast. “I’m not.”

"Didn't think so." His cold grey eyes lingered on the phone, gaze calculating. Amy didn’t breathe. “You gonna stand there all day? Or are you gonna get me my dinner?”

With a stifled sigh, she trudged to the kitchen, dreading turning her back to him—if even for a second. “Come on Izzy, come through.” She whispered almost prayerfully. As soon as Stu got home, she’d explain everything. “You always do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was about as half-assed as Axl's assless chaps.  
> I swear I'll never fuck up so greatly again. I might disappear for a while xD Apologies.


	9. Chapter 9

Duff opened his apartment door some time after eight, grumbling under his breath the scathing comebacks he couldn’t find during the hour-long chewing out he got from his father. The sheer darkness and stillness of the room stopped him in his tracks.

“Axl?” He called, instinctively lumbering forward, managing to do nothing but slam his thighs against the coffee table. “Axl!”

“Calm down.”

The voice was closer to him than he expected and he instinctively stilled, listening to the soft footfalls move a ways off. Suddenly the room was flooded with light and his eyes stung. “I thought…” The redhead looked calm enough, if not a bit stressed. He offered Duff a shaky smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t hear you come in.” Axl sauntered back to the couch and sprawled in what was probably his previous position. “Didn’t expect you to worry like that.”

The blonde shrugged, shrugging off his jacket off before joining Axl. “Yeah well, I thought something had happened. Why were you sitting around in the darkness like that?”

Axl made a face, “I’m used to it. Think better in the dark.” Which wasn’t exactly true, he just felt safer in the dark. Besides, Izzy never remembered to turn on light when others were around—he ended up sitting curled up in the dark more often than not. “There’s food in the kitchen.”

Duff nodded, grinning a little. “You really didn’t have to.”

“And what? Leave the cooking to you?” Axl’s brows neared his hairline. “God, no.”

The blonde smiled, though he could sense the redhead's uneasiness under his teasing. “What’s worrying you?”

“How was your day?” Axl chirped, trying to change the subject as subtly as he could—which was very not-subtle.

“Wow.” Duff snorted, “That bad, huh? Wanna talk about it?”

Axl didn’t want to talk period. “I called a friend, he’ll be here next week, with my sister and brother and…” He dragged his hand over his face. “I know it might be too much to ask but… I was thinking…”

“Yeah? Thinking what..?” Duff prompted, loosening his tie.

“I don’t want to be a bother, but the only money I have right now is what I’ve recently made from work.” Axl really hoped the earth would open up and swallow him—at least then he wouldn’t have to be in this situation. “Can I borrow some cash? Just enough to rent an apartment and I’ll pay you back after. I can have Michelle send all my paychecks to you if you want. I’ll… get another job to help—a”

“You’re leaving?” He interjected, because his mind had stopped working right about there and he started to feel that familiar panic seep into his bones. “For good?”

Axl’s rambling stuttered to a stop. “I-I’m not about to overstay my welcome here, or take advantage of all you’ve offered and—”

“You’re always welcome here.” Duff insisted, trying to take deep calming breaths. “Have you seen the rest of the place? I have, like, three empty rooms just sitting around.”

“Well yes but…” With each word Axl felt more and more uncomfortable. “I don’t want to live off you.”

“You don’t, you still work and help out—”

“I can’t just dump my family here, Michael. It’s not fair to you.” Axl’s voice was strained, blue eyes begging him to understand. “I’m totally good for it, I swear, I’ll pay you back.”

“Calm down, Red. I’m not worried about you not paying me back.” The redhead relaxed just a bit. “I’ll give it to you, no sweat. I’m just saying, you don’t have to leave.” He finished, not daring to meet Axl’s eyes for fear of what he’d see there.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Axl finally said, barely above a whisper, swallowing his embarrassment. “Listen, thank you for everything. I’m sorry, about you having to hand out so much—”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Ok.” Axl said, though he was already calculating how much he’d need to make to pay Duff back. “Well, I gotta go to work.”

The blonde noticed for perhaps the first time that Axl was dressed, made up, and ready to head out. “Oh, okay. Just think about it.” He chuckled. “It’d be so boring without you.”

“Damn right it would.” Axl joked weakly, “Who’s gonna nag you about completely pointless shit 24/7s?”

“Have a good day, well, night.” Duff murmured, tugging Axl forward by the lapels of his jacket into a gentle kiss. “Hopefully, you’ve already had dinner, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to leave any behind.”

The redhead just laughed. “I’ve come to understand your appetite, I rescued enough for myself. I’ll have it when I get back. Goodnight.”

Axl had left a sticky note reading ‘Now this is how you cook shrimp’ in his barely legible scrawl. Duff smiled so much he had difficulty eating.

\------

Steven closed the cupboard door a lot harder than strictly necessary, sucking in a sharp breath at the noise.

Tracii shared a look with Lemmy. “Steven, are you ok?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fucking great.” He snapped, whirling around to glare at the couple. The apple he held in his too-tight grip managed to look strangely threatening. “How are you, Trace? Can you tell? No? Maybe you’d be able to if you’d stop fucking sucking face for a minute.”

Tracii sniffed, a bit offended. “Jeez, you’ve been like this all week.” He shifted from Lemmy’s lap anyway, folding his hand neatly over his ehem… situation.

Steven’s blue eyes widened, and the blonde was now staring at Tracii like he was planning to launch a full out attack at any second. “Oh… I’ve been like this all week? So have you two!” Normally he wouldn’t bat an eye, but Dominic recently informed him-over text, like an asshole—that they weren’t working out. The blonde tried to calm himself and focus on his apple—which was annoyingly red.

Why the fuck was it so red? It pissed him off.

“Uhm… Tracii…” Lemmy warned, Stevie’s face was an alarming shade of red. If steam started pouring from his ears, Lemmy wouldn’t be terribly shocked.

“We’re always like this.” Tracii pointed out, almost whining, flinching when wild eyes snapped to him. “You should calm the fuck down.”

Biggest mistake of a lifetime.

Steven hurled the apple with uncanny accuracy straight at Tracii’s head and if Lemmy hadn’t yanked him a bit to the side, the fucker would’ve been hit right between the eyes.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” Steven rasped, knowing damn well he overreacted. He couldn’t stop it if he tried—nothing worked out for him. It was always some bullshit or the other. Twenty-four and never even had anything real like what they had, no matter how hard he tried. “No need to flaunt your—your…” He gestured helplessly, anger evening out when he noticed the wide eyed look Tracii was giving him.

“Steven…”

“It’s nothing, just had a rough day.” He lied, shrugging lightly and turning away.

“Oh.” Lemmy still had a death grip on Tracii’s arm, but relaxed when the blonde’s shoulder slumped. “What happened?”

“The usual.” Steven said dryly, still refusing to face them. “I’m sorry.” Yeah, not only for wasting a perfectly good apple. He was sorry he wasted his fucking time pining after someone who barely even gave him a chance, sorry he can’t click with anyone like they did, sorry no one ever stayed and wasn’t that just saying a whole lot about him? Plus, the apple thing still irked him.

“Why’d he…?” Tracii paused, feeling guilty as fuck. Of course he should have noticed something was off with his closest friend.

“We weren’t working out.” He hissed through gritted teeth. And now he wasn’t even sure why he was angry, because Dominic wasn’t anything special, they weren’t soul mates or anything. He just thought that they were compatible. Or he didn’t want to punch the guy’s teeth in and the sex wasn’t horrible so…

“You weren’t.” Lemmy deadpanned, and Steven stared at him in shock, feeling oddly betrayed. “You barely even liked him.” And really, Steven needed to stop worrying about things like this, he had said it time and again, ‘it’ll happen when it happens’.

“Well, I didn’t hate him—”

“You just hated being alone.” Tracii finished, flinching when blue eyes narrowed threateningly at him. “I mean, you might have a bit of a problem with—”

“Gee, thank you both for that, I didn’t know I had shrinks living with me.” With that, he stalked off, ignoring Tracii’s protests. “And don’t fucking bother me.” Steven tossed this over his shoulder before he slammed his bedroom door shut.

Fuck them, he was a grown man. If he wanted to sulk in his room and feel sorry for himself—he’d damn well do as he pleased.

He really just wasn't too keen on dying alone, and that was where he was headed.

\---------

“I thought about it.” Axl said softly, and Duff huffed sleepily, shifting to peer blearily up at the redhead. “Sorry I woke you, I just got back and…”

“And what?” He managed to say around a yawn.

“I don’t think me staying…” Axl begun haltingly, “Well, it might not be very comfortable for you.”

The blonde was wide awake now. “It’s really okay, you’ve seen all the space—”

“That’s not what I meant.” Axl said firmly, almost forcing himself to say the other words. “It’s about Izzy.”

“Your friend?” He asked carefully.

Axl swallowed hard. “Not…really…” He really wished he could leave it there, but Duff was looking at him with undisguised interest. “He’s my ex?” And that was more of a question than anything, because they hadn’t exactly broken up, they just were one day then weren’t the next.

Duff breathed a little sigh of relief. “I expected you to say husband or something.” And yeah, he could see how that might be awkward. “It won’t kill me if he hangs around a few weeks.” Really, Duff considered himself a decent guy, not one who was unnecessarily jealous or possessive, he may be a little too trusting but whatever.

“That’s… not the problem.” Izzy. He had no idea how Izzy would react to this, the fucker could be downright toxic when he wanted to.

“Is he an asshole?” Probably not since he was dropping everything to help Axl out. Which was another thing. The blonde shifted over, “Come on, get in bed.”

“Sure thing, mom.” Axl rolled his eyes but undressed anyway, stripping down to his boxers. “God, it’s warm.” He groaned, pressing himself closer to Duff’s side. He wondered how much longer they could do this for.

Duff glanced at him. “You saying I’m hot?”

“No?”

“You didn’t sound sure. You just lost two points.”

Axl laughed, the knot in his chest loosened just a bit. “Two points off what?”

“You can’t know your score till the end of the game.” He answered, trying to keep a straight face,

The redhead nuzzled Duff’s neck. “We’re playing a game?”

“The love game.”

“You did not just fucking quote Lady Gaga.”

“Aha! You totally picked that up.” He grinned manically. “You listen to Lady G?”

The redhead sniffed. “No comment.”

Duff allowed Axl to drape himself across him, making pleased little noises as he did. “You gonna tell me about Izzy?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“You gonna tell me about Duff?” Axl asked, trying to keep the bite from his voice.

“Trade your story for mine.” The blonde whispered, and once again Axl wondered if he was five. “Deal?”

“Deal, dibsongoinglast.” He breathed all at once, lips curling in a smile at the sound of Duff’s rumbling laughter. “No take backs.”

“Ok, Red.” He huffed. “You got me there.”

\--------

Michael met Slash while walking to Econ class when he was fifteen, awkward and anxiety-ridden (not much has changed, really).

Slash crashed full force into him, to be precise. “Watch where yer going!” The boy snapped, tilting his head to glance at Michael.

“Well, you’re the one who bumped into me.” He pointed out calmly, clutching his book for dear life. He didn’t do that often, speak out about anything, on a normal day he’d mumble an apology and move on.

“I wouldn’t have if you had watched where yer going.” The brunette said again, shoving his hair back to meet Mike’s gaze and woah, he had nice eyes. Why cover it up with his bangs. “Dude, nice hair.”

Michael flushed, feeling like an idiot, because no one looked at his electric blue hair and complimented it. But the boy’s face was honest and open. “Thank you?” He said hesitantly, still a bit confused by the whole series of events.

“Yeah, no problem.” The shorter boy stuck out his hand, flashing his perfectly white teeth in a mile. “I’m Saul, you can call me Slash.”

Michael still had no idea someone was willingly talking to him about something that didn’t include coming over to use his pool or asking if his dad could sponsor the school prom. “I’m Michael Anthony McKagan.” He blurted when he noticed Saul was just standing around, waiting for him to reply. And great, he gave his full name like a loon.

Slash just laughed and seized his hand in a firm grasp. “Nice to meet you, Mike.” The brunette’s thumb grazed the back of his hand and Michael stifled a little gasp.

Mike couldn’t help noticing how soft his hand felt, and how nicely it fit in his, how brown his eyes were and his skin, how curly his hair was. He cleared his throat and tried to subtly lower his book to his crotch—yeah, subtly. Sue him, he was fucking fifteen, boners were as much a part of his life as his dad’s disapproval and his fucking panic attacks.

“Good to meet you too.” He murmured when he realized he needed to give some sort of reply.

Slash was still holding his hand. “Hey, where ya headed?”

“Econ class.” He said, cheeks still burning because Slash still hadn’t let him go yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to. “You?”

“Out back for a smoke.” Slash said breezily, winking. “And you are too.” He used his grip on Mike’s hand to lead him away from his class despite his weak, totally fake protests.

It all went downhill from there.

Michael found a friend, someone who didn’t care about his family’s money, or his weird colored hair, or the fact that he was tall and awkward, a bit too soft spoken, a fucking outcast. Slash forced his way into Mike’s life and left his mark on everything, remade him.

“Michael is a bit long, eh?” The brunette had said one night, cheeks flushed, eyes bright—probably from the beer they’d stolen and were swapping.

“I guess?” The blonde replied, keeping a close eye on Slash. For some reason, he always got pissed way faster than Michael, the bitter taste of the liquid only left him feeling strangely war. If they drank enough, Slash got off his rocker.

“How about,” He squinted at the label of the beer. “Duff. Because I’m pretty sure everyone is normal except you. I’ve never seen you drunk off this shit.”

“It’s not very strong.” He protested on reflex, because he didn’t want to be not-normal. Pink hair or not, he was as normal as the rest of them.

Slash hiccuped, leaning closer. “Naaaaaah, yer special. Yer the fucking king of beers, Duff. Know how many drinking games you’d win?”

“All of ‘em?” He asked, smiling despite himself. Because he often did that around this crazy mother fucker, smiled till his face hurt and he had never once allowed himself to think about what that meant.

Slash nodded jerkily. “Every fucking one.”

Elmer McKagan did not approve of Saul Hudson, that much was obvious, but then again, Elmer didn’t approve of much his son did. The first time Slash went to his house, when they were sixteen and the summer sun was at its hottest, Elmer looked at Slash’s too long hair and ripped jeans with a pinched expression.

“Hey, Mr.M.” Slash crowed, completely oblivious—that or he didn’t give one fuck.

“Hello, you’re a friend of Michael’s?” His father drawled, like he couldn’t believe his socially awkward son made a friend. And a questionable one by the looks of him.

“You bet, Duff and I been friends for a year now.” Slash chirped, unaware Duff’s stomach was lurching and his heart racing. “Feels like forever.”

The father quirked a brow at the nickname, but said nothing else for the evening. His mother, Alice, was a lot more welcoming; she sat at the pool with them listening to Slash talk about music, art, fashion, his mother and Duff (which was a bit embarrassing as far as he was concerned, but apparently his mom thought it was great).

“Dude, your dad has a stick up his ass.” The brunette whispered at one point, and Duff heaved a sigh of relief because yes, he wasn’t the only that walked on eggshells around the man.

“Don’t worry, the worst he’ll do is ignore.” And that got Slash looking at him quietly. Seemed like he failed at keeping the sadness out of his voice.

“Fuck him.”

Soon enough they were in college, roommates (because no matter how close to home it was, Duff was not staying with his parents) and Slash was suddenly bigger and broader in all the ways that mattered. His hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, way pass his shoulders and as unruly as ever. Duff was still quiet, more popular than in high school (Slash swore up and down it was the blonde hair), a little less panicky.

He still couldn’t get laid.

“Seriously, that’s bullshit.” Slash whined, tossing his socks at Duff’s head. “These girls are begging for your attention.”

He muffled a groan into his pillow, this argument again. “Maybe I don’t want their attention.”

Slash was quiet for a while, and Duff really hoped he had given it up and gone to bed. “So, boys then?”

Duff’s heart stopped. He would, of course, deny it vehemently, but all that came out was “Uhm… n-no I don’t even—a”

“It’s fine, ya know.” The brunette said, waving a dismissive hand. “Regardless of what tightass Elmer spouts. It’s fine, boys are hot.”

Duff choked out a half relived, half amused little laugh at that. Because Slash’s relationship (and his) with his dad just got worse as they got older. Especially since Elmer had somehow managed to force him into fucking Business Management when all his passion lied in History. “Yeah, ok.” He breathed, significantly calmer.

“Wait, are you…” Something just occurred to him. “You and Anthony? First year, med student?”

“Yeah.” Slash said, and Duff had to ruthlessly tamp down on his anger. Of course he was fucking Anthony; he hadn’t even realized all the times Slash had disappeared to “study” with Tony meant something completely different. He was pretty sure he got sexiled a few times too.

“I don’t like Anthony.” Duff had seen some questionable bruises on Slash one too many times after one of those alleged “study” sessions.

“I know.” Slash sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Listen he—he’s not all bad. I know he’s a little aggressive but it’s just how he is.”

Sounded like fresh bullshit to Duff, so he just ignored the sentence completely.

“So who is it? The guy that’s got you all shook up.” Slash probed and the blonde rolled unto his back and wondered what he had done in his past life to deserve this. “I mean, you’re tall, smart and handsome, you could have anyone you want.”

He ignored how much his heart raced at that, tried to remind himself that Slash was just being nice. “No one.” And that would be his answer for months to come, Slash kept asking, Duff kept denying and they lived in relative peace.

That was until the answer changed, “Michelle.”

“What?” Slash asked, tilting his head.

“Michelle.” Duff repeated, fidgeting on the bed.

The brunette hummed thoughtfully. “The third year? Blonde? Great tits?”

“Y-yeah.”

The silence that descended revealed things he suspected but never wanted to know.

“Oh my God, you fucked her didn’t you?” Duff sat up lightning quick when Slash didn’t even try to deny it. “Are you two… are you still…?”

“I didn’t know man!” He protested, resting his elbows on his knees. “I mean I’ve been asking you all this time and you kept saying no one and—fuck—if I had known, I wouldn’t have—”

The blonde knew Slash had a point, but he still felt miserable. He wasn’t sure why, maybe because Slash got to the one girl he liked. Maybe because another girl had managed to get to Slash after knowing him for a few weeks when Duff had known him for years and couldn’t—

“Have you fucked the entire school?” He snapped, trying to ignore his thoughts. “Just go to fucking bed!” He tugged the sheets over his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Slash, in typical Slash fashion, did not go to bed. The brunette shuffled around a bit, Duff heard the faint clinking of glass and he figured Slash had turned to their stash for comfort. The brunette yanked Duff’s sheet off, thrusting a bottle of vodka under his nose when the blonde sat up to give him a bloody nose.

He never could refuse vodka.

The brunette crawled into bed with him and they drank in silence for a while, before the alcohol started loosening tongues and the words begun to flow between them. They talked about their childhoods, about their dreams, Slash talked about the first guy he liked, and Duff seethed in silence, eventually the conversation went full circle.

“I didn’t know man.”

“Doesn’t matter now.” Duff said truthfully. “I don’t care about her.” She was smart, yes. And really pretty , but she really wasn’t to blame for falling for Slash’s wiles. After all, he did too.

The brunette snorted, resting his head on Duff’s shoulder. “Then who do you care about? You’re not gonna die a virgin are you?”

“Uhm, you, you dumbfuck.” He blurted before he could stop himself. Fucking vodka, he’s never drinking again. Duff thought for a while, then tacked on “I don’t wanna be with, someone I don’t care about. I can’t.” Unlike you, he thought to add.

“Me?” Slash asked thoughtfully. “Like, for real?”

“Are you five?” Duff asked then started giggling so hard he spilled some vodka on his sweats. “Fuck.” He said succinctly.

“Since when?” Slash sounded a lot more sober than he had recently. “That guy Tyler keeps checking you out, ya know.” He added, because he didn’t want to sound too desperate.

“Since forever. Tyler? The hot hockey player? Shit I wouldn’t even know to deal with that—virgin remember?” He murmured, because he was too busy staring at the damp patch on the leg of his fucking sweats. His favorite fucking sweats, how could vodka betray him like this?

Slash giggled softly. “Shit, me too bro.” He sobered up. “Not the virgin part, just the… I like you too.” Because apparently he hadn’t let that part go yet.

“Oh.”

Seconds or minutes ticked by before Slash spoke again. “So if you were to, say, get some practice—”

“Not with random people, Saul.” He cut in, wondering if he should just rip his fucking pants off.

“I’m not random people.”

“Whuh?” Duff asked intelligently, blinking at the brunette’s beautiful-ugly face.

“I said, I could help you out man. I mean, it’s not a chore, I like you too—always have.” The brunette laughed again—Duff really liked that sound—warm breath washing over Duff’s neck. “Man, I popped so many awkward boners around you, especially when I slept over. Had to rub one out in your bathroom before I could sleep in peace almost every time.”

“Oh.” Duff said, because he still wasn’t quite following. Slash? Liked him?

“Hey, wanna make out?” Slash whispered, reaching across Duff to rest his bottle on the night table. It was like high school all over again. “If you want, I mean. Have you ever—?”

Duff shook his head, a bit breathless. “No.”

“We could do it, I mean kiss, just to see if you like it.” The brunette cupped Duff’s hot cheeks. “We can stop when you want.”

They didn’t stop. Kissing led to touching, and that led to Slash’s spit-slick hand snaking into his sweats and tugging on his cock clumsily. And that led to Duff making noises he never thought possible, because this was real and not another one of those dreams that left him with stained sheets and the distinct feeling of bad-wrong. And of course, that led to Slash pressing up against him, and grinding while he ruined Duff’s life, all the while confessing the filthy things he had done with him in mind.

“Like that last time you slept over.” Slash panted. “Curled up around me, fuck I woke up with my dick slotted right up against ass. It was torture not to move when all I wanted to do rub against you till I got you all messy. Had to get outta bed and take a fucking shower, took me almost an hour to calm down.”

“Slash…” But the brunette quickly kissed whatever the ending of that sentence was from his mouth.

“Got chewed out for running up the water bill.”

Duff came while sobbing, laughing and gasping for much-needed oxygen. Slash followed closely behind, sinking his teeth into Duff’s neck to stifle his choked groan.

“Liked it?”

“So fucking much.” He said a bit helplessly.

The brunette laughed, “Well then, we can do that whenever.” He caught himself last minute. “Uhm, you know, for Tyler.”

“Yeah, for Tyler.” And that was probably the biggest lie he had ever told, but there was no way he was going back to not have Slash’s rough hands all over him.

It evolved from there, they saw no one else. Slash was tangled in Duff and the blonde loved it, it was what he had always wanted—love. Or so he thought. He made the mistake of saying just that one night while deep in the throes of passion, squirming and trembling through his orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” The brunette had whispered, almost prayerfully, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “I can’t…you—”

“Fuck, I love you Slash.” He panted, feeling warm and at ease—as much as he could be with a cock in his ass anyway.

He had never seen Slash shut down so hard, the brunette pulled away (and fuck, that stung), and he hadn’t even finished yet, searching for his clothes.

Duff watched, afterglow just a distant memory. “Slash…?”

“I gotta—I have class and… I just, gotta be at the library.” Bullshit. He had no classes at the moment, it was some time after eight in the evening.

“Slash, what’d I do?” He asked, chest heaving, god he’d fucked up somehow, he always managed to.

Slash paused long enough to flash him a shaky smile before taking off. “Not you baby, please don’t worry.” Oh, but Duff worried, it was all he could do.

Slash showed up a week later with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, bit jumpy and withdrawn. “I don’t think we should… do this anymore?”

“Huh?” He heard exactly what was said, but he hoped it was a mistake.

“I mean, you got your practice right? You should be fine.” He tried for a smile and failed horribly. “We’re still best friends though, right?”

“Yeah.” Duff croaked, even as his heart was falling a apart. “We’re still us, don’t worry.” He had already lost what they had, there was no way he was losing their friendship too.

Slash had nodded and hugged him tight, and even though they were still a bit tense a few weeks after, they got over it with time.

\-------

“Well?” Axl asked, not the least bit sleepy.

“Well what?”

“Well why did he leave?” And he was really trying to sound calm, but he wanted to knee Slash in the balls.

“I—I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.” Duff shifted around, trying to get more comfortable. “There were just things happening in his life that I didn’t know about then, and afterwards it made a lot more sense but…”

“But?”

“But I’m not sure it would’ve changed anything.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “It’s really not a big deal, I was nineteen, and crushing for years before. Of course I’d jump at the first chance… even if it might have fucked up our friendship.”

“That sucks.” Axl deadpanned.

Duff planted a kiss on his forehead. “Yes, but it was a long time ago, so it’s fine. We worked through it.”

“Don’t you wanna hear? About Izzy? I assure you it’s not as—“ Tame? ”—it’s not er… yeah.” He really deserved a prize for being best at explaining things.

“You can tell me in the morning.” Yeah, some sleep would be great right now. “You should rest.”

“Ok.”

Axl watched him a long time after he had drifted off, brows furrowed in concentration. If he looked hard enough he could still see traces of the awkward boy who fell for his closest friend and wound up with a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, just kinda busy.   
> This took forever to upload, Ao3 was bitching. :|


	10. Chapter 10

Contrary to popular belief, Stephen Bailey hadn’t always hated Izzy. There was time when he regarded the boy with something bordering curiosity—more like he was a challenge. Axl would put himself between the two whenever Stephen got that look in his eyes, like he could ward off any attack the man tried to launch (highly unlikely, really).  Jeffrey spent most of the days after school curled up in Axl’s room while listening to records.

“Who’s singing?” He asked, once the sounds of Robert Plant’s voice floated around the room.

“Robert Plant.”

“He sounds beautiful.” Izzy said, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“He is. Don’t I sound beautiful too?” He asked, crawling next to Izzy. The door was locked, because as far as his parents were concerned, what could two fifteen year old boys possibly do behind a closed door? If only they knew.

“I’m not sure, my memory comes and goes a bit.” Izzy pressed his lips into a thin line to fight off a smile. “Kiss me again and I’ll see if I can remember.”

This thing between them—whatever it was, they had never got around to putting a name to it—was new and just a little confusing. They held hands, snuggled up to each other to sleep, shared a kiss every now and then, and if Izzy’s soft sounds in those moments got him hard enough to pound nails—that was his business, and his alone.

Stephen stumbled home from the bar some time after five, slamming the door so loudly behind him it woke Izzy who was snoring softly on his lap.

“Time to go?” He slurred, groping around till he found Axl’s hand. “He’s back early.”

Axl lingered there for a while, clinging to Izzy’s hand because no, he didn’t want him to go. This part was the worst. When Steven’s heavy footsteps started up the stairs, they separated quickly and Axl mentally prepared himself for whatever shit his stepfather would toss his way.

“Axl!” He barked, struggling with the doorknob before flinging the door open. “Get ready for church, and bring the boy.”

The redhead blinked, uncharacteristically silent for once. Maybe he hadn’t heard right. “Pardon, sir—”

“The boy.” Stephen repeated, a painful looking smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure the mother won’t mind him tagging along, will she now?” The fact that that didn’t sound like much of a request irked Axl.

The redhead sucked in a breath and tried again. He knew damn well Izzy could hear the note of terror in his voice. “Izzy, don’t you have to be home—”

“Not really.” Izzy chirped, eyes fixed on Axl’s face—almost uncanny in his accuracy. The redhead grit his teeth, knowing Izzy must have jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with him, but the last place he wanted Izzy to see him was in church. “I’m free.” He added, just to do maximum damage.

“Good, we’ll be leaving shortly.” Stephen bared his teeth again, before turning on his heel and sauntering away, almost gracefully for a man of his size.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Punk?” Axl hissed, shaking Izzy by his shoulders, breathing a bit erratically. “Why’d ya say something like that?”

Izzy rolled his eyes, an action that would usually endlessly amused Axl. “I wanted to come. To hear you sing.” He replied easily, shrugging Axl’s hands off. “It’s only an hour long service.”

And that was that, because if the firm set of Izzy’s mouth was anything to go by, there would be no convincing him. Axl got dressed, cussing and mumbling all the way, sneaking glances at Izzy who sat there calmly at the edge of his bed, lips curled in a little smile.

He didn't know.

But how could he know? Axl rarely spoke of anything that went on in that fucking church.

The fact that Stephen ignored Izzy through the whole journey did nothing to quell the feeling of foreboding sneaking up on him. This whole thing promised to be a shit show and he didn't want Izzy there, Izzy was never supposed to see him here, so completely under Stephen's control. 

It was barely fifteen minutes into the service when Axl's suspicions were confirmed. 

“God spoke to me this evening, while I was at home with my family.” Hums of approval rippled through the congregation. Axl felt his blood run cold when Stephen paused, locked eyes with the brunette—finger crooked as he beckoned him closer. “Someone will be healed today.”

Axl could sense this was going to be a fucking disaster. Sharon’s carefully molded mask slipped a bit, her eyes sought out Axl’s. Wordlessly she asked ‘what’s going on’, and Axl felt like screaming because what was he supposed to do? He was fucking sixteen for Christ’s sake, he had no say in situations like this. She sighed, but turned to whisper something to Izzy.

Axl watched, horrified, as Izzy rose from his seat, clutching Sharon’s forearm as she led him towards the alter. The brunette seemed calm, unaffected by the whispers, ruffles of paper fans, the shuffling.

“How long you been blind, boy?” Stephen rumbled, once Izzy was kneeling, dark clothes clashing with the red carpeting.

“All my life.” And Izzy somehow managed to sound faintly amused by the whole thing, head bowed, dark hair falling in his face.

Axl closed his eyes, teeth sinking into his lower lip. He didn’t want to see this, there was a loud buzzing in his ears, his mouth felt dry and his vision swam out of focus. It took him a while to realize Stephen was calling for him, lips turned down at the corners, annoyance set in the lines of his face.

“Start the chorus.” The man demanded, and a single glace at the congregation—the sea of excited faces peering at him—reminded him that yes, Stephen was indeed in charge here and there was nothing he could do about it.

Axl sang, the melody low and sweet, eyes fixed on Izzy’s face the whole time. Izzy who’s head was cocked a bit to the side, face rapt in concentration—probably happy he was hearing Axl sing. The choir joined in, then the congregation and finally Stephen, his every word laden with fierce conviction. Their voices lowered, and Stephen rested a heavy hand on Izzy’s (and that spiked feelings of jealousy) head and begun to pray. His voice rose and fell, but Axl couldn’t make out his words, couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears except the occasional shriek of someone in the crowd, cries of agreement.

A cursory glance at his mother revealed her large blue eyes were wide open, face frozen in horror. Stu and Amy were behind him, and he couldn’t bring himself to face them.

“In the name of the father—”

Axl’s body shook with the need to drag Izzy away, to get him out now. He shouldn’t be kneeling, not before a man like Stephen anyway, not before this God.

“In the name of the son—”

Someone wailed in the audience, but Axl remained still.

“And the holy spirit, Amen.”

Everyone held their breath as Izzy tottered to his feet, he swiped his aviators from the floor and tucked it in his shirt pocket. His gaze swept over the room and people exclaimed in shock.

The church was in uproar, Miss Maisey, an elderly woman, leaped to her feet, almost sprightly. “Thank you father! You’ve performed a miracle.” Her grey eyes were glazed, her expression slack, she sank into her cheer, her brief burst of energy gone—she was again, just a old, tired woman.

Others joined in, shouting praises—not to god—but to Stephen, who stood amongst them, chapped lips spread in a smile.  “You see? You see the greatness of our eternal god?”

Axl knew better, he did. And finally, spurred into action, he dropped the mic, and made his way over to Izzy, stumbling over the hem of his gown a few times.

The brunette grinned sharply, “I’m sorry, Pops.” Stephen froze, smile wavering. “Still as blind as a bat.”

“Bu—but— you’re—” Stephen’s breathing was way too controlled to be normal, and that was as bad a sign as any. Axl belatedly realized most of the town probably had never seen Izzy with his glasses off, had no idea his eyes were mostly normal, except if you stared right at him, you just… knew.

“What? Blind people don’t blink?” Izzy drawled, and Axl had to fight down the giggle bubbling up in his throat. Christ. Fucking Christ, only Izzy.

Axl had never seen Stephen get so deathly pale. He grabbed Izzy’s hand, almost having to elbow the reverend out of his way in the process. “Let’s fucking _go_.”

They breezed out of the church without a backward glance, even as chaos erupted behind them, accusations of betrayal and false prophecies. Axl didn’t stop, and somehow Izzy kept up with him, without his cane, only stumbling a few times in the process.

“Jesus Christ!” Axl barked, still shaking a little. “What the fuck—why didn’t you just go home? What were you trying to prove in there?”

The brunette laughed, loud and carefree. “What was I trying to prove? _Nothing_. Now Stephen? Ask him.”

Axl gaped at him as he pulled out his aviators and put them on again with the air of someone who got exactly what they had wanted.

“Besides, you do have a beautiful singing voice. Even when you’re about to pass out in a panic.”

And that was just Izzy for you. Needless to say, since that summer, Stephen hated Izzy with a passion. Told everyone in town he couldn’t be healed because he was in league with the devil, a fiend, his kind was unworthy of the kingdom of heaven. He went as far as to forbid Axl from seeing him, from bringing him into his house ever again (not that that did much). And Izzy, in true Izzy fashion, thrived on those accusations, went with the image as best as he could—wore his leather with pride and a cocky smirk.

Axl helplessly loved him the more for it.

 ***

One night, Sharon snuck into his room with that familiar faraway look in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered and the redhead blinked at her in confusion.

“Why.” Because, despite everything, she tried her best. And he had a feeling she suffered the most and in her own fucking house too to top it off.

“You don’t know much about your dad, do you?” Axl just stared. Unbidden, she went on. “The… car, that ridiculous car out front, that’s his. The damn thing broke down, and you know him”—actually, he didn’t, but he let her go on—“never committing to a darn thing. Wouldn’t stay around to fix it. When you were born, we drove back from the hospital and the damn thing just gave out on our lawn.” She laughed, high-pitched and painfully young. “Said he’d fix it up to sell. God knows where he got the thing, I’m sure he didn’t _buy_ it. But, he… he never came back.”

She smiled, stroking his hair absently. “Red hair like you’ve never seen, I was a fool. So young, and so stupid, but God, you should’ve seen him—”

“Mom…” He said softly, urging her to stop, because he knew this part. Everyone knew this part, the baby, the way William refused t settle down, his temper, how Sharon’s parents wanted her to marry Stephen—he had potential, a good Christian man, not some wild stranger who had a penchant for barroom fights.

“A fucking blue car, Axl.” She said, and she must have been far gone because she never swore in front of them. He could make out no bruises on her in the darkness, and he hadn’t heard anything earlier but... he couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure. “William, was just—he. A blue car, can you believe it? The same blue as his eyes.”

She was shivering, barely holding herself together. He clutched her hand and she let him, eyelids fluttering. Her gaze was perfectly focused when she finally said “You have his eyes, Axl.”

She cried on his shoulder, and he held her through it, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Maybe he’d work on the old thing, he was no mechanic, but he knew his way around a car.

**

The year Axl turned seventeen and Amy fourteen, things began to go pear-shaped. One evening after hanging around the auto shop (because school was just a distant memory by then), Axl walked in on Amy frantically trying to stuff her favorite dress into a trash bag.

“What’re you doing?” His first guess was her period, but he doubt you’d have to toss a whole dress out because of a bit of blood. A second look at Amy raised more questions. Her hair was wild, eyes red rimmed, face tear-stained. “What happened?”

“I ripped my dress.” She said flatly, and really, Axl was going to have a talk with her about trying to lie to him again. “Nothing happened.”  She said firmly, as if trying to convince herself.

“ _Who_ did this?” He asked, snatching the dress from her loose grasp, because the thing had to have been _torn_ off her.

She hesitated and Axl felt sick to his stomach. “Axl…”

“If it’s that Gregory boy picking on you again, I will ride over to his house and kick his fucking teeth in because—”

Amy dragged in a shuddering breath. “Stephen.”

Axl blinked at her for a while, mind refusing to accept this. His own daughter, he couldn’t have. Axl had learned to take whatever he dished out – he expected it, even—he wasn’t Stephen’s son, he was a constant reminder than Sharon had chosen William, that she would have chosen him ten times over.

Stephen didn’t like being anyone’s second choice and he made it his duty to make both Sharon and Axl’s life a living hell.

“He said—” She shifted her weight around, playing with the hem of her shirt. “Daddy said he had to do it—to make sure I’m pure, maybe prepare me for a husband so that—” He voice cracked. “I tried to fight him still, I really _tried_ but he’s strong—”

Axl pulled her to him, held her close while she muffled her pained sobs in his shirt, the striking red fabric of her torn dress was all he could focus on, it was all he could see. He had to get her out of here, because he knew damn well that Stephen didn’t do anything in halves.

So Axl marched her upstairs after her tears had subsided and locked her in his room, “Stay there. And don’t come out okay? No matter what bullshit he sprouts. You can go downstairs to get food, but as soon as he’s home, stay here. Sleep here tonight.”

Amy nodded, sniffing softly. “Where’ll you sleep Ax?”

“Don’t worry about that. Leave the window open for me.” He said, hating himself for only being able to do this.”

He headed straight to Izzy afterwards, because he had no one else to talk to. Sonja took one look at him standing on her porch dripping wet, pale and haunted and jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. “He’s reading.”

Izzy was angry like Axl had never seen before, pacing the room. “Axl, you gotta tell someone.”

“Who?” Axl snorted. “Who is gonna believe the word of a _bastard_ child? A high school dropout, over the word of their beloved reverend?”

The brunette made a frustrated sound and covered the distance between them with quick strides that no longer surprised Axl. He was in his comfort zone; he didn’t need a cane to get around his own house. Fuck, Axl had bumped into more things in this house than Izzy ever had. “Angel…”

“Izzy…” He tried for warning, but God he was weak, and he hated it.

“This isn’t on you.” The brunette said easily, like he knew what Axl was thinking. Another thing that was no longer unsettling.

Axl shook his head, knew damn well Izzy couldn’t see the movement. “I can’t… I can’t keep her there but I don’t know what to do. I can’t fucking _think_ —” Izzy intertwined their fingers, breathing lightly.

“Let’s clear that head of yours.” Izzy said, wiggling his brows. "How about we get so stoned we kill all our brain cells. I guarantee you a clear head."

Axl managed a weak laugh, at this point he'd take any out he could get. Izzy always had the best shit anyway, and he'd never spill where he got it from. What seemed like a lifetime later, they were flat on their backs, inhaling smoke and doing their best to "kill their brain cells" (adults insisted that weed did exactly that).

Genius struck at the most unlikely times.

“I’ll fix it.” He blurted, and Izzy carried on smoking like this was totally normal. Izzy made him feel normal and special and everything at once. “I’ll fix that fucking car, I can work part time at the auto shop. Buy the parts it needs.”

“Hm.” Izzy pulled Axl closer to him. “Need help?”

The redhead laughed, “Stephen will shoot you if you set foot on his property.” Except it wasn’t his property. It was Sharon’s.

“Like I give a fuck.” Izzy put out his cigarette out with a flourish. “Maybe I’ll shoot him first.” And no, that didn’t sound like much of a joke and Axl did not doubt Izzy’s ability. He had seen Izzy beat a bully shitless once, before Axl could run to his rescue (not that he needed rescuing). The brunette was backed against the lockers, and some dumb jock was making jokes about Izzy being here, at a school with “normal” people. He grabbed Izzy by the lapels of his jacket, and to this day Axl couldn’t explain exactly how Izzy had twisted out of his hold; how he had forced said jock’s face into the cold, unforgiving metal of the locker a few times (and believe me, there was blood and screaming) before Axl could haul Izzy off the poor kid.

“You’re not shooting my stepfather.” Axl said drily, because things like these needed to be established. Izzy belonged next to him, not in some jail cell wasting away.

“Ok, Angel.” Izzy murmured, and Axl sighed softly. He wanted this, Izzy’s approval—needed it, somehow. “Fix your car, get them outta here.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

He should have known form the moment Izzy hesitated, because Izzy wasn’t the type to, but he was too blissed out, his mind too busy with his plans. “And I’m coming.” The brunette’s voice raised at the end, like it was a question.

Axl jerked his head up to look at him. “Yeah, you _are_.”

Izzy hummed and Axl tried ignore the feeling of dread that settled over him.

But really, he could only focus on one problem at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is just the first part of the flashback  
> It's long and I didn't want to post it all at once. Bear with me :) It's coming, I promise.  
> ((*whispers* plz don't quote me on this, fuck.))


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